


You can't blame gravity (for falling in love)

by star_k



Category: Best Song Ever - One Direction (Music Video), One Direction (Band)
Genre: 5 Times, Bottom Louis, Face-Fucking, M/M, Pining, Rimming, i dunno man should i tag spitting? i don't know why there was so much spitting tbh, kinda friends to lovers, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 16:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11627700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_k/pseuds/star_k
Summary: “You know,” she’d always start, “I never understood why these chick flicks are so addictive.” She’d give a small laugh into her cup, hot steam warming her face, the living room in their hometown house lit only by the television, both of them cozy under blankets while the girls slept in their bedrooms. “You’re never, you know, that smooth while talking to the one you really want. When you like the person you’re dating you’re actually quite a mess, flustered and clumsy all around. You can’t control it.”Or five times Marcel fell, and one time Louis did it (plus an extra one).





	You can't blame gravity (for falling in love)

**Author's Note:**

> So as always, I wanna thank my lovelies, my beautifulies, my faves, [Steph](HTTP://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelyste/pseuds/perfectdagger) and [Sammie](HTTP://britpickerhl.tumblr.com//) for all the support. Team sSs bitchesssss
> 
> Special thank you as well for [Genny](HTTP://broccoliwasdone.tumblr.com/), [Ri](HTTP://moonlitlarrie.tumblr.com/) and my lovely anon. You're awesome, keep doing you lovelies.
> 
> Surprisingly, there's a [playlist](HTTP://open.spotify.com/user/synecr/playlist/2K4mXOVAHnTfT7WYvV3gDz). Have fun!

  1. **Six**



“How’d it go?” Asked Niall from his place on the couch, his attention away from the footie match on the tv and placed on Louis miserably taking his shoes off.

Louis looked at his flatmate, impassive face sustaining for about a second before he broke it off with a groan.

“Horrible, Horan, I’m telling you,” he laid down on his couch, putting his feet up Niall’s leg, toes in mismatched socks wiggling as he made himself comfortable. His date clothes would wrinkle in that position, but he couldn’t care less. Maybe he should retire his blazer and start dating in soft sweaters if ‘laying on the couch miserable’ was the endgame of every single one of his dates.

“Come on, it couldn’t have been so bad,” Niall tapped the remote control at Louis’ feet gently, already used to his friend’s pouty moods after a not-so-ideal date. “What happened? Was the guy too boring? Did he have horrible breath? Did he flirt with the waitress?”

“He’s gay, why would he flirt with the waitress? You know what, never mind.” He grabbed a pillow, pushing it to his face and grumbling in frustration. “He just... he wasn’t ideal, ok?” Louis took the pillow off his face, hugging it on his chest. “He was smooth, charming, a perfect gentleman. I was bored out of my mind with him. It was so annoying, you know? Makes a guy feel like just another one.”

“Jesus, aren’t we picky?” Niall laughed, his attention turning quickly to the telly to see Chelsea’s attempt at goal, turning back to Louis when it failed after a small curse.

“Isn’t it a replay? Don’t you already know the final score?” Louis asked, wondering yet again how could he be friends and flatmate with two guys with such terrible taste for footie teams.

“I didn’t see it earlier today, I was in a seminar,” He pointed the remote to Louis when he opened his mouth cheekily, “DON’T spoil it to me, you wanker. Lemme watch it.”

Louis pretended to zip his lips shut, already feeling in a better mood than when he first entered their flat. Niall always had that effect on him, their friendship one of the easiests and safests relationships he had in London. Day by day the city felt like a new home, a second one other than Donny. He’d made the big move in his first year, excited to live the londoner life but already missing his home life, his big family. Finding good friends, people he could count on and make him feel welcomed, helped settle his uneasiness, the newness of his life. That had been four years ago; now London was his life, uni soon to be his past and the only problem he could find in how he was living his life is that he had no romantic anyone to properly share it with.

While Niall watched the end of the first half of the game, Louis got lost in thoughts, fingers drumming over the pillow, mind wandering tirelessly. Niall had asked jokingly if he was a picky one, probably already tired of hearing no proper wrongdoing from Louis’ dates. It’s just… that was the problem. Louis wasn’t picky per se, he just wasn’t very much inclined to waste his time with someone not worthy of it. And he always heard his mum when she said the same spiel every time they shared some tea time over late night chick flicks:

_“You know,” she’d always start, “I never understood why these chick flicks are so addictive.” She’d give a small laugh into her cup, hot steam warming her face, the living room in their hometown house lit only by the television, both of them cozy under blankets while the girls slept in their bedrooms. “You’re never, you know, that smooth while talking to the one you really want. When you like the person you’re dating you’re actually quite a mess, flustered and clumsy all around. You can’t control it.”_

And then she’d tell him an anecdote from one of her dates. His mom was his best friend and he loved to hear her stories, loved to learn with her. When he came out to her, she hugged him tightly, reminding him how much she loved him, how brave he was, how proud she was of him. Then she held his face, pinched his cheeks, and asked if he’d found any boy to leave him flustered yet.

Back then, he was 18 and had a crush on his classmate. It wasn’t the same, but he’d tried, had some fun.

Now here he was, on a string of boring dates, faithfully waiting and looking for the sort of excitement he’d heard so many times from his mom’s stories. He had no problems in hooking up with a stranger or two, but if he was to try something more permanent with anyone, he wanted someone who fit into what he grew to cherish as the desired company.

He wasn’t picky. He just wanted to do shit right.

_“You’re enough by yourself, Louis, you don’t need anyone to complement you.” Jay had told him after his first break up, his shoulders shaking as silent tears slid from his face. “Although, sometimes it’s nice to have someone to compliment you.” They both chuckled slightly, her attempt to lift his mood well appreciated. “Come now, love, he wasn’t meant for you, yeah? Others will come. Now you cry, you be miserable, then you get up and keep going. That’s life. There are boys in every corner of this Earth, soon enough you’ll find one just for you. It might take a bit long, but one day he’ll be there.”_

The longer it took Louis to find someone, the more he thought maybe his mom had too high of a romantic optimism in her. Maybe he wasn’t made for flustering-feelings and forever-kind-of-deals. So what. Life still goes on.

And so does his dates. He might be becoming a bit of a pessimist, but he wouldn’t give up so easily. Who knows when it could happen.

“NOW! NOW! Come ooooon! Fuck, I hate this,” Niall hid his face on his arm, defeated groan leaving his pouted lips as he slid down the couch.

“What happened?” Louis humored him, looking over to the telly to see the replay. Chelsea just lost an easy goal, Fàbregas shooting too hard and the ball hitting the net outside of the goal. Louis snickered. Serves them right. “Ooh, pity.”

“Fuck off, you devil.” Niall grumbled, throwing the remote exasperatedly on his lap, hitting Louis’ legs.

“Hey, don’t blame me for your shitty excuse of a team,” he kicked his leg into Niall’s thigh, making the boy moan exaggeratedly in fake pain, his attention back to Louis since the referee had just blown his whistle, signaling first half was over.

“Shitty excuse of a team that’s on top of the table, arsehole” Niall bragged, two fingers raised towards Louis.

“Only way you’ll ever be on top, eh, Horan?” Louis raised a middle finger, his trademark response for any banter he was into.

“You got us mistaken here, buddie.” Niall laughed, “I’m not the one with the killer arse.”

“Oi!” Louis threw the pillow into Niall’s guffawing face. “Stop objectifying me!”

As they laughed, both heard the unmistaken noise of someone tripping and falling down onto the floor just outside the living room wall, their position on the couch just enough so they couldn’t see who it was.

“Leyum? Is that you? You alright?” Louis asked, getting higher on the couch’s arm and stretching his neck to try and see Liam on the floor. Just then a hand gripped the edge of the wall, a familiar face getting up from the floor, his other hand quickly fixing his glasses, trying to put his hair back in place and sliding down his sweater vest to present himself properly.

“Hi guys! Long time no see.” Marcel squicked, flushed from his obvious clumsiness.

“Hey Marce,” Louis greeted him. He’d always had a soft spot for the guy. Must be the doe eyed posture, or his obvious discomfort in every social interaction. The guy was a mess. Nevertheless, whenever he came around Louis tried to chat a bit under the pretense of “any of Liam’s friend is also my friend”. The truth, though, was that Louis had fun talking with the lad whenever he was around, found him interesting in his chats, was delighted on how he matched Louis’ humour and was straight up entertaining because of his clumsiness. “You alright?”

“Yo, Marcel, my lad. That sounded quite hurtful.” Niall grimaced in sympathy for him, watching him fidget in discomfort leaning against the wall.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” Marcel fixed his glasses again, hiding his face in the nervous habit and staring at the ground. He looked up from his lashes at Louis, nervously asking “how about you, Louis?”

Louis blinked, not really sure about the impromptu questioning. “I’m okay. Haven’t fallen around much lately. Just peachy.”

Marcel laughed obnoxiously at Louis’ lame joke, hand covering his face, hiding away his dimples from the confused stares Niall and Louis were giving him.

“Oh, shit, Marcel, no need to hurry, mate.” Liam stopped beside the guy, watching his mirthful giggles subside as he put his hand on Marcel’s shoulder. “Hey guys, I’m craving a pint tonight, what do you think?” Liam invited the other two at the couch before turning to Marcel again. “Marcel, you sure you don’t want to come with us? There’s only so much market research we can do on a friday night before a Guinness or two is needed. Come on, it will be fun.”

“Why the fuck are you doing a market research on a Friday night anyway?” Niall asked them accusingly, fingers lazily scratching his arm as he fixed them an incredulous stare. Louis nodded along.

“We wanted to make sure our research was solid enough to hand it in this monday class,” Liam rolled his eyes, too used to his flatmates judgemental stares whenever he behaved like “a nerd”. “Excuse us if we want a good grade on this one, okay? The teacher is looking out for interns and both me and Marcel would very much like to be candidates. Wouldn’t we?” He turned to Marcel to see him biting his lower lip, staring at Louis open and close his hand like it was mimicking Liam’s speech.

“Wow, Liam, that’s so interesting,” Louis spoke slowly to his hand, his head tilted sideways and eyes big, glowing in mischief. “How come I never heard you talk about this internship of yours!” Niall snickered beside him, Liam blushing beside a giggling Marcel. “Oh no, wait, I think it’s coming to me. I guess I must have heard you mention it once while we were eating breakfast…”

“Or while we were watching tv…” Niall continued.

“Or when we were walking to class…” Louis turned to Niall, a finger pointing at him, expression in fake confusion.

“Or when we were out drinking…” Niall intoned, eyebrows raised, fingers snapping towards Louis as if just remembering the occasion.

“Or when he was in the fucking bathroom and all I wanted was a quick shower and some privacy.” Louis finished, mocking face turned back to a beet red Liam, Marcel outright laughing beside him. Louis wondered if the guy had that sense of humour where he really thought everything was just too damn funny or if Louis was a comedy genius wasting his time on Drama classes.

“Well, that was fun,” Niall laughed, “but the game is about to get back on. We can go out later, Liam, how about that? Meanwhile, grab us a couple of beers from the fridge and come join us. Louis needs the distraction after the disaster of a date he had.” Niall snickered before turning back to the telly, a Heineken comercial passing before the restart of second half.

“A date?” Liam questioned, cheeks still slightly pink as he entered the kitchen, opening the fridge and looking for their stock of beer. “Marcel, do you want one?”

Marcel was at the same spot on the corner of the wall, his eyes glued to Louis before he turned to Liam, an awkward stance on his pigeon toed feet as he grimaced and shook his head no.

“Don’t give us that look, I for one remember quite well how friendly you are to alcohol. What gives?” Louis asked, eyebrow raised and trying to bring him into their usual flatmate dynamics. Marcel could be a little bit of a funny duck, but Louis wasn’t so mean as to not make him feel comfortable, even if he had a little problem in socializing or expressing himself. Besides, he’d never pass the possibility of a bit of a banter go.

“Please, don’t remind me of that,” Marcel answered high pitched, trying to suppress a smile as he looked back at Louis, dimples on show as he shyly leaned on the wall, fingers picking on the faded wallpaper. Louis watched him intently, a raised eyebrow assessing his answer.

“Why shouldn’t I? Was one hell of a Christmas party, mate. We all had our fun there. I know I did, if you know what I mean.” Louis laughed, remembering how much fun he had at last Christmas’ party, the only one he had actually seen Marcel go to. They had chatted a bit at the beginning, but while Louis had gotten busy with the prick he used to date back then, Marcel had found as much alcohol as he could and had gone back to talk to Louis completely plastered, mentioning something about embarrassment and helping a guy out. Louis always wondered if he meant to say he had fallen somewhere and gotten hurt - and if Louis had been an arsehole by letting him walk away as he was. Water under the bridge, though. All he remembered now was the fun they’d had (and how Marcel apparently was the babbling kind of drunk).

Marcel shrugged, nose scrunching up and avoiding Louis curious gaze. “My first college party. Memorable for all the wrong reasons. What I can remember from it, anyway.”

“That’s how you met Niall, wasn’t it, Marcel?” Liam closed the fridge, three beer bottles in his hands, walking to the couch and signaling for Louis to sit down instead of laying across from it. When he didn’t budge over, Liam sighed and sat down on the floor, back against the couch. He raised his hand, giving away the beer bottles to Niall and Louis before opening his own and taking a small sip.

Marcel still stood on the same corner, watching their organic interaction like a fascinating movie.

“Yes, it was,” Liam continued, “wild night that one. Didn’t we get stuck under a mistletoe? Jesus, I think we even kissed because of it,” he laughed, two similar snorts sounding from behind him on the couch. “I can’t say if you’re a good kisser or not, Marcel, but I do know I’ve vetoed every Christmas party from now on. Only family ones now.”

By the end of his speech, Marcel had both hands hiding away his face, his embarrassed groans echoing louder and louder until he sounded straight up anguished.

“Please, don’t remind me of that!” Marcel whined, his hands still hiding his face away, giving his voice a nasal tone, his speech even funnier than it already was, making everyone laugh of his miserableness. “That’s one of the reasons I vetoed alcohol from my life forever, Liam. You’re a good friend, but I much rather never have to kiss you again.”

“Fuck, man, how did I miss this? How could you withhold that info from me, Liam? I’ll disown you.” Louis stuck his finger inside Liam’s ear, watching him squirm away from his fingers, battling away Louis’ attack with his left arm while his other one dried the beer he’d spat. Real classy. “Who would you rather kiss, then?” Louis looked at Marcel, waggling his eyebrows when he peaked from between his fingers, green eyes disappearing when he closed the space between them back again. Louis thought he heard a small ‘no one’ before Niall cursed loudly beside him, arms raised in anger. By the time he turned his attention back to Marcel, he had already gathered himself back together, hands straightening his sweater vest on his belly, eyes downcast and troubled expression on his face.

“Come sit, Marce. There’s space for all of us.” Louis invited him, slapping Liam on the side of the head for being such a terrible host.

“No, no, I should go.” Marcel smiled big, fixing his glasses before slapping his hands down to his legs. Louis thought for a moment he looked like a penguin. A socially awkward penguin. God. “Thank you so much for your sweet invitation, but I need to get going. I have. Stuff. To do.” He looked to Louis a beat too long, ignoring Liam’s protests of ‘Please, come with us to the pub!’, a determined nod of his head before he turned and walked away, an awkward wave with two hands and a murmured bye to their direction. Liam turned back to the game, still drinking his beer with gusto, already used to Marcel’s odd behaviour. Louis followed him with his eyes to the door, watching Marcel trip over his own feet as he put his shoes on. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t see how Marcel stopped for a second by the door, looked back at them with a dejected face quickly turning into a deer caught in headlights look when he realized Louis was watching him back. He scrambled with the door, banging it closed behind him with no finesse. Louis turned to the telly, amused little smile playing on his lips.

“What an adorable weirdo.” Niall commented distracted, eyes fixed on the game. Liam, drinking from his bottle, just slapped him on the leg.

Louis shrugged, giving a small sip on his bottle, “I like him.”

 

*

 

  1. **Five**



Louis took another bite of his chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing just like he liked it.

He had a free afternoon and for once he chose to lazily walk around, still deciding on how to spend it since all his closer friends were otherwise busy with classes or work. He stopped by a coffee shop nearby his campus to wait until classes were over so he could go back home with Liam. They’d figure something to do together, but for now, Louis enjoyed his tea and his cupcake.

The sun peeked shyly from the clouds, the unusual warm weather upsetting his autumn vibes. Still, Louis insisted on wearing his beloved jeans jacket, if not for the weather, then at least for his looks.

He was sat outside the shop, checking his phone out, looking for anything to pass the time (memes, okay, he was looking for memes) while Liam took his sweet time to get there. By the stream of students leaving campus, Louis could tell classes were over and they’d be going home soon, hopefully to play some Fifa or shit like that. He bit his cupcake with gusto - gotta love thursdays.

Louis looked back towards their campus, seeing a familiar figure come up his way. He smiled slightly, recognizing Styles talking animatedly to what appeared to be his friends, hands gesticulating wildly while the fours girls surrounding him laughed out loud. Marcel’s own face held a huge smile, whatever he must be talking about funny enough to leave them in hysterics. In between words, Marcel looked upwards and made eye contact with Louis, brief but sudden enough to make him lose his balance and fall on his knee, a blonde beside him paying enough attention to hold his arm and prevent him from falling face first onto the pavement. Even a few meters away, he could see how red Marcel’s face became after his misstep.

Louis bit his lip, trying to contain his laugh. Every Goddamn time he saw Styles, the guy seemed to make a mess of himself. He was yet to meet someone as socially inept as him - a small eye contact and he was left stuttering, looking for the right words or stumbling away as quick as possible. He was like a scared kitten that he had to coax before he could properly talk to him. Louis wondered if they ever got close enough if Marcel would eventually be comfortable around him like he was with Liam, or if he was destined to always flounder his way through life.

(Truth be said, even as funny as it was, Louis thought it was kind of cute. So what, he had a soft spot for lost cases, sue him.)

A desperate look passed through Marcel’s eyes as his friends helped him get up from the floor, his lips moving quickly as he spoke urgently to them. Soon enough all four girls turned to look at Louis, a dawning look on their faces as Louis awkwardly waved back at them. They all grinned back to Marcel, speaking insistently to him before they left, giggling at each other and throwing sly glances in their direction, watching him approach Louis’ table.

“Hi!” Marcel squeaked, a look of horror crossing his face before he cleared his throat, trying again but with no better success.

“Quite the show you put there,” Louis snickered, unable to hold his tongue. Marcel blushed harder, not quite meeting Louis’ gaze as he moved his hands, obviously not sure where to put them. He settled for holding his bag’s shoulder strap, biting his lip nervously as he shrugged, embarrassed at his own clumsiness. Louis smiled softly at him. “Sorry, I just had to take the friendly piss. Are you alright, though?”

Marcel smiled at the ground, dimples greeting Louis just as remarkable as Marcel’s enthusiastic squeaks. “It seems like you’re always asking me that. Every time we meet, there’s that question: are you alright?”

“Yeah, well,” Louis scratched his cup’s lid, mumbling a “just being polite” before taking a small sip. He glanced back to Marcel, “although, in my defence, you seem to always be falling around me. Why is that? It makes a guy worry, you know.”

Marcel coughed to - unsuccessfully - hide a small laugh, his nose scrunching up as his fingers adjusted his glasses on his face. “I’m just like that, I guess. Falling all the time.”

“Better prevent it from happening,” Louis kicked the chair beside him out of the table and towards Marcel. “Come, sit down. Liam will be here in a minute. Were you looking for him?”

“Not really,” Marcel sat down gingerly, mindful of his bag and how small the table was, careful not to push Louis’ cup or accidentally kick him. He sat down safely, to Louis relief. “I was going to go to Jade’s house with the girls, but they told me to ditch them and come here instead.” Marcel gulped, fixing his glasses yet again as he stared owlishly into Louis’ eyes.

“Wow, they not even subtly dumped you for some quality girls time, then,” Louis laughed, taking a final bite from his cupcake, crumpling the paper and leaving it before his cup, aware all the time of Marcel following his every action attently. Guy must be hungry as fuck after classes and Louis didn’t even offer him a bite, talk about being polite.

“It wasn’t like that, you know.”

“Hm? What wasn’t?” Louis finished his tea as well. A cupcake he would be willing to share, his tea not so much.

“The girls. We’re very fond of each other, they wouldn’t do that to me.”

“What? One of them is your girlfriend?” Louis wondered, not for the first time, what kind of person Marcel would be attracted to, if he even was into dating. Back at their party, Marcel didn’t seem interested in hooking up with anyone, instead he had spent a long time talking with Louis to only then get so drunk he apparently hooked up with Liam, of all people. Maybe he had a crush on Payno? Now that’d be something. Who knew.

“What?” Marcel scoffed, “of course not. I don’t even-, I mean, I like-, I. Hm.” Suddenly he got flushed, a red tint colouring his cheeks as he glanced at Louis and away, over and over again, until he admitted softly.

“I’m gay.”

Oh. Okay, now that’s a question answered, a thousand new ones forming on Louis’ head.

“Kay. Good. Didn’t want to assume before, but thanks for telling me.” Louis tapped his fingers on the table, eyes averting from his tattooed wrist back to Marcel’s fixed stare.

“Go out.”

Louis blanched. “What?”

“With me.”

Louis scratched his head, confused by Marcel’s non sequitur. “I’d call this more of a casual hangout than anything, Marce, but yeah, sure. I like to go out with you, you’re an alright guy. Of course you being gay doesn’t change that, if that’s what you’re on about. You must know I’m gay as well, you’ve seen my ex-boyfriend and everything.” He laughed slightly, but it only seemed to frustrate Marcel further, who huffed, pulling his chair closer to Louis.

“What I meant to say is- is- is,” he took a deep breath. “I need you to go out with me. Want! Want you to. Out. I mean, going. Out. With me. In a date, dating, kind of like boyfriends, but not yet, not until you want to because I obviously want you. To. I want you to. A trial date? Could be wherever you want, I just would like to have you. Out with me! On a date. Not a trial, just a date. With me.” Marcel seemed to realize he was babbling, blushing furiously and looking down, right hand fixing his glasses - more to hide himself than anything - while his left one hugged his bag’s strap tighter against his chest. “But if you still don’t want it then it’s okay, only say so and I’ll take whatever answer you give me, of course.”

Marcel pulled at his collar nervously, showing how his blush went down to his neck. Today’s sweater vest was a deep green one. It matched his eyes.

“Wow.” Louis cleared his throat. He had no idea what to say. If he were being honest, he might have gotten lost somewhere in the middle of Marcel’s babble, still he got the main point here: he was being asked out on a date. And if he were even more honest, he’d say how that had been the fucking surprise of the century - he hadn’t seen it coming at fuck all.

Marcel shyly looked back at Louis, eyes zeroing in on his lips as Louis nervously licked them - ready to reject him gently -, and mumbled something.

“What?” Louis asked dumbly.

“I said,” Marcel cleared his throat yet again, trying to contain his squeaky voice. “ _I said_ , you have a bit of chocolate on the corner of your mouth.” He pointed with his finger to Louis’ face, indicating where the chocolate was supposed to be. Louis passed his jacket’s sleeve to try and clean it, trying again and again every time Marcel said it wasn’t quite there yet until-

“Here, let me.”

Marcel had long fingers, Louis noticed, as he held Louis’ chin and cleaned the right corner of his mouth free of the offending chocolate with his thumb, a clinical look on his face before he held Louis’ gaze back, a beat of a moment passing between them before Marcel blinked, dropping his hand down to his lap.

“Thanks.”

Marcel hummed. They stayed quiet for a moment, Marcel staring at his lap, Louis staring at Marcel.

“You know,” Louis began, not really sure where his sentence would end, but beginning it anyway. “I confess I never thought you would, you know, ask me out. You caught me by surprise here, so.” He cleared his throat, not sure how to go on. “It’s… I mean, I think you’re ace, Marce, a very cool lad. A bit shy, of course, but overall really cool. Never thought you would, you know, come after me, is all. Especially right now.”

Marcel raised his glance curiously, “what do you mean?”

“You, asking me out like that.” Louis tilted his head. “I can see you have a scraped knee from here and apparently I had chocolate icing on my face all this time. It’s no news you’re a bit self conscious, so I guess I’d be the last person you’d want to go out with. You know I can be a bit loud and all. Not to mention this does seem like a poor timing.”

Marcel shrugged. “I like that you’re loud. And I gathered my courage once, I don’t know when I will be able to again.” He passed his hand on his face tiredly. Marcel hadn’t realized it was the one with the chocolate icing, though, smearing it over his cheek accidentally. “I’ll take what I can get.”

Louis looked at him. Really looked at Marcel, after all these odd encounters he’d had because of their friendship with Liam. Huge glasses, gelled hair, chocolate smudge and all. It’d been almost two years, give or take, of quick greetings at their shared flat, small nods and waves throughout campus, more stumbles and fallen objects than he could count, some nice chats here and there. Marcel always seemed the same, overeager, sweet, dimpled smile, gelled hair, big glasses, pigeon toed.

So.

Was Louis okay with it? He was a cool guy after all. Just maybe not the kind that Louis was used to going out with. Still Louis digged him.

Marcel’s green eyes seemed to know what Louis was about to answer, a dejected smile playing on his pink lips as he made his shoulders hunch in himself, his broad stature seeming smaller because of Louis gaze on him. He was a word away from heartbreak to happen.

“Yeah. I mean, yeah, why not.” Louis clicked his tongue. “Take me out on a date, Marcel Styles. You seem like a fun night out to happen.”

Marcel blinked. Then blinked again. And again. Then let out the most unattractive snort Louis ever heard in his life.

“Are you serious?”

“As a disowned Black.” Louis smirked, already expecting Marcel hyena like guffaw. He wasn’t disappointed. Marcel was safe to read, even if he’d caught Louis by surprise more than once just today. He wouldn’t be shocked if it wasn’t the last time he’d been left speechless either.

As he quieted down, Marcel stared at Louis again, both assessing each other curiously. They couldn’t quite put a finger on what was about to happen between them, how they should proceed with things. It seemed like new territory, outside of the comfort zone of a mutual friend or a big gathering of people, instead of just the two of them like now.

(What the fuck did Louis just agreed to? A voice in the back of his mind whispered to him. The rest of his body just seemed too relaxed, loose by the prospect of what was to come.)

Then Marcel stood abruptly, eyes opened scared, almost taking the table and his chair down with the sudden movement. “Shit, okay, I have to go. Wow, I can’t believe you said yes. Should I thank you?”

Louis hastily shook his head. “Please, don’t.”

Marcel nodded his head. “Yeah, okay, yeah, I won’t. Of course I won’t. But I should go. I- bye. I mean, goodbye, Louis Tomlinson. I’ll see you soon?”

Louis bit his lip, trying to contain his laugh from Marcel’s chopped movements and his deer-in-the-headlights expression. “That you will.”

He saw Marcel nod his head one more time before he took off down the street, his feet moving determinately until he was out of Louis sight.

(He hadn’t had the heart to inform Marcel of the chocolate icing incident though, his cheek still dirty. He guessed Marcel would figure out soon enough.)

“Ready?” Liam called him, approaching him after who knows how long Louis watched Marcel walk away, completely lost in his own head and in what he had just agreed to.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

 

*

 

  1. **Four**



 

“What the fuck should I even wear?”

Louis wore nothing but his pants and his tattoos, hands on his hips, frown on his face as he thought about the best option for his date - _his date_ \- with Marcel. Skinny jeans seemed like the best choice, but topped with what?

“Didn’t he even hint you where you’re going?” Niall asked from where he was perched on Louis bed, lazily scrolling down his phone. He looked up from it just to waggle his eyebrows at Louis suggestively, “go like this. I bet our dearest Marcel would love it, even if it’d be the last thing he sees before going into cardiac arrest.”

Louis threw a (dirty) shirt into his head, “don’t even joke about it. He’s a nice guy, I don’t want to make him more nervous than he already is at any given day.” While scanning his wardrobe he found a nice enough jumper to wear inside a jacket. Sadly his usual date clothes were dirty, but he’d have to do with these ones. He dressed hurriedly, aware of how punctual Marcel was and how very much he was not. He still had to do his hair.

“You know,” Niall began slowly, giving Louis a funny look as he saw him do his hair in front of the mirror, “for someone who wasn’t even sure why you said yes, you seem awfully dressed up for this date with Marcel.”

“Shut up.” Louis’ concentration didn’t stray from his fringe, trying to make it soft just how he liked it. “I happen to live the moment, you know? Since I already said yes, I’d better enjoy it. As you love so much to say: yolo, and all that jazz.”

Niall hummed, not really convinced by Louis (admittedly) lame excuse, but not in the mood to argue either.

Why was he so dressed up, anyway? He didn’t even know where they were going. Marcel had only messaged him (on facebook, because he didn’t have Louis’ number, didn’t ask Liam for it and he’d forgotten to ask last time as well) what time he’d be coming to pick Louis up for their date.

**_Louis, hi! It’s Marcel._ **

**_Obviously._ **

**_I mean, my name is right there._ **

**_On top._ **

**_As you can obviously see._ **

**_Anyway. Hi! I’m wondering, is tomorrow night a good night for you?_ **

**_For dating._ **

**_I mean, for our date. Is tomorrow night ok? Or is it too soon?_ **

**_Please let me know, I could pick you up anytime, but 6pm sounds like an adequate option._ **

**_Xxx_ **

_Sure, Marce, friday night is a perfect night for dating. Pick me up at 6pm, I’ll be waiting for you (:_

Yet again, Louis was left wondering about Marcel’s love life. The guy had asked (blurted out) Louis on a date yesterday and he’d promptly contacted him to go on said date the very next night. Not very dating etiquette there. Very unusual from the ‘three-day rule’ Louis was expecting.

He didn’t know what to think. Marcel just kept throwing him out of the loop every time and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

As he put his hands down, fringe just like he wanted it, the doorbell rang. It was five to 6pm. Marcel was early.

Niall looked at Louis, catching his reflection’s gaze before smirking and dashing out to open the door. Louis called after him, uselessly. He knew by now Niall had opened the door, ushering Marcel inside and appraising the situation as best as he could.

Louis took a deep breath and walked out his bedroom door, hearing Niall’s laughter filling up the flat, calming his nerves as he rounded the corner. Marcel had a crooked smile directed at Niall, mirth dancing on his eyes, unaware of Louis looking at him.

He was wearing formal wear. Were they going to a fancy place? There was a floral tie to break the formality, but he was wearing a formal white shirt inside his grey sweater, a black blazer matching his black trousers. Formal shoes. He looked like he was going to a meeting, not to a proper date - except for the bouquet of light pink roses he held on his hand.

“Are those for me? You shouldn’t have, but thank you, Marce. Also, I feel terribly underdressed now.”

Of course Marcel yelped and almost dropped the bouquet, were it not for Niall saving it before it fell to the ground.

“Jesus, Louis, don’t scare me like that.” Marcel whipped his hands on his legs, ignoring Niall’s laugh before he turned to Louis, bouquet back in hand. He was obviously checking Louis out, a tender pink staining his cheeks, adorning his soft look and smile. They made eye contact and Louis held his breath, waiting for Marcel’s verdict. He held the roses towards Louis timidly, offering them delicately, not minding how his glasses slid down his nose. “You look lovely, Lou. But I’d advise you to put on some shoes before we go.”

Louis snickered. Of course he did.

“They’re at the door.” Louis grabbed the roses, sniffing them, raising curious eyes towards Marcel. He was still staring at Louis. “Come on, let’s go. We’ll grab them on the way out. Niall, do you mind putting these on a vase with water? No funny business, I want them safe on my room when I’m back, capiche?”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Niall took the bouquet from him, winked and left towards the kitchen. Louis could hear the water falling down on the kitchen sink. His gaze never wavered from Marcel.

“So. Let’s go?”

“Yes, please.”

They both left the flat after Louis put his vans on, going down the stairs and out of the building silently. On the street, Louis turned to Marcel, about to ask which direction they should be off to, when Marcel interrupted him.

“I have reservations for 8pm. So I thought… maybe we could wander around the city? Go sightseeing, visit some tourist places.” He passed a hand on his head, not a single hair out of line. He’d gelled it up meticulously. A self deprecating smile adorned his face. “Now that I say it out loud it sounds very lame, I’m sorry. If you want, we can go straight to the restaurant, or somewhere else.”

Louis was already shaking his head no. He pulled at the end of Marcel’s blazer to catch his attention back from the floor. When Marcel looked back at him, he smiled invitingly. “Hey, none of that. It sounds perfect, Marce, come on. Who doesn’t love London? Let’s go explore it.”

Marcel had the most enthusiastic smile Louis had ever seen on an adult.

As they traveled around the city, catching a tube and walking around, Louis learned more about Marcel than he did of the city itself. He knew the basics, of course: Marcel Styles, 20 years old, Marketing graduate, Liam’s friend, kinda nice; but nothing compared to how much they were opening up to each other, just the two of them, interacting with no distractions.

So. First, he’d learned the guy was giddy about everything he did. He babbled nonstop about places he’d been, inviting Louis in for his memories around the city (“ _I had my first lunch ever in London on that restaurant over there. I’d just come with my mum to check our campus out and ate the most marvellous pasta. Do you like penne?_ ”), for his hobbies (“ _I actually love photography. Once, I tried to shoot a sensible photograph of the baker, but his dog chased me down the street. I was terrified. Do you like dogs? Or pets in general? Do you have one? Or had one as a kid?_ ”), and even his aspirations (“ _You see that building? That’s where the internship both me and Liam are applying for. I hope we get it. It’d be lovely to work with what I like, you know? Marketing is actually very interesting, you see-_ ”). Every time he tried to stop himself, saying how silly he was being, talking about himself when he could be listening to Louis talk, was much more interested in hear what Louis had to say, Louis would ask him another question, prompt him into another memory or two, glad to share his own memories and thoughts and likes with Marcel.

Somewhere between fixing his glasses and waving exaggeratedly, his stories turned into one of the most endearing ones Louis had ever heard. He had always had fun with Marcel, whenever he saw him, but tonight he was _delighted_. Marcel had quirks and mannerisms while he babbled excitedly whatever he had in mind to Louis, but he would stay silent and attentive whenever Louis spoke, as if every word out of Louis’ mouth was a treasure, something so precious he couldn’t blink in fear of losing it. Louis was baffled at himself he had quite never realized this.

Second, he’d learned Marcel’s coordination really wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.

It was worse.

So far, Louis had seen him drop things and fall, even if more times than usual, what was usual for people all around. But seeing Marcel weaving his way through the crowd, still maintaining his continuous rant over a story or another, or with his eyes fixed on Louis beside him, he had to hold his laugh more than enough times as Marcel tripped over strangers, excusing himself and apologizing every other second. By the time they’d left the busier spots, Marcel had managed to trip three times (knocking Louis over one of those times), be cursed five others and make a child cry - he dropped her lollypop. He felt so sorry he wouldn’t leave until he bought her another one. (Louis may or may not have held a mental bet over whether Marcel or the little girl would cry first. He also may or may not have betted on Marcel. Sadly - or not - Louis had intervened before things escalated to that point, calming both the girl and Marcel while he went off to buy the wasted lollipop.)

By the time Louis realized what time it was, they hadn’t yet chosen a proper tourist place to explore, instead when they got off at Piccadilly they walked around distractedly, no proper course set while they kept on talking, Louis skipping a step or two, amazed whenever Marcel tried to imitate him. Soon they had gone through Waterloo Place, trying to avoid any more disaster encounters with other people or tourists, an unconscious course towards The Mall and the parks nearby. So deftly pulled Marcel off to St James Park, they both sitting down on a bench, watching people pass by and waiting a bit until it was time for their reservations.

“I’m sorry.”

Louis turned to Marcel confusedly. “What for?”

“I bet this is not the typical kind of date you go on. I’m like. Nervous babbling for an hour now. I’m sorry, I don’t even know why you’d go out with a guy like me, it’s just.” Marcel sighed deeply, looking down at his hands. “I really like you, Louis. I have for a long time now. And last month when I last saw you, you were talking about a date you’d been into, you know?” He fixed his glasses, looking up at Louis. “I thought, well, I should at least try and ask you out before you were proper off the market. Now I guess I just strung you along for another terrible date as well.” He shrugged sheepishly, eyes cast down yet again. It didn’t sound like a line, or some compliment fishing technique. It sounded sincere. Louis wondered about it.

It really was an unusual date, wasn’t it? Marcel had been everything but usual from the get go. Normally Louis was the one to ask people out, attracted to a trait or two on the other guy, wanting to explore it more, see how they fit together. It led to disaster in more ways than one.

Then, whenever he was asked out, it’d be the same old formula of dating: hi, how are you? what do you do? what are your hobbies? over the main course, Louis bored out of his mind by dessert time, a quick peck on the cheek at the end of the night, a parting of ‘text me, let’s do this again’ when he had no intentions of doing so.

“What’s a guy like you just like, then?” Louis questioned out loud, trying to fit his thoughts to the guy in front of him, make sense of where his mind was trying to go. Make sense of why he decided to give this a chance.

“Just quirky, I’d guess.” Marcel smiled, scrunching his nose and fixing his glasses, a self conscious look on his face.

Quirky was a good definition of everything Marcel was. Different, with a unique tone to his being. So open, accepting of everything he was, his view of the world something Louis was very fond of, he’d just learned. Not a cool kid in the slightest, but every piece as adorable as Marcel’s dimples.

And he liked Louis. Enough to eagerly share his worldview, his quirkiness with him since the get-go, despite how shy he was.

“Marce,” Louis began, fiddling with Marcel’s splayed hands over his thighs, his feet tapping nervously on the ground stopping at the first contact. “Do we consider this our first date, then? Date number one, immediately followed by date number two?”

Marcel blinked confusedly. “...I guess?”

“Good.”

Louis moved closer and kissed him, just a small peck to his lips. When he tried to move back, Marcel’s hand caught him by the back of his neck, securing him in place so he could deepen the kiss, leaving small kisses all over Louis’ lips, a small suck on his bottom lip, a shy nip, before Marcel licked inside, hands clutching them together, closer still.

Surprisingly, not only did Louis thoroughly enjoy the kiss, their chemistry unquestionable, but as he tilted his head to the other side, arms loosely around Marcel’s neck, Louis was already wishing for another kiss. And another. And another.

Marcel complied every time.

When Louis sat back straight, hands ruffling his hair back into place - his goddamn fringe that had been a bitch to put in place as he wanted -, he could see Marcel still curved forwards, mesmerized by what’s just happened, flushed cheeks, plush mouth slightly opened in wonder. When they made eye contact, Louis had to turn away, suddenly shy, smile uncontrollable on his face, eyes crinkling, hand coming up again to straighten his fringe and hid himself away.

His mistake. All he heard was a scuffling noise, a yelp and Marcel was down on the floor, back down, legs up, face hidden by both hands in shame.

“Are you al-” Louis began, worried Marcel had gotten hurt by however the fuck he managed to fall on the floor while _sitting down on a fucking bench_.

“Oh God, please don’t.” He moaned, ashamed by his current situation, voice muffled by his hands on his face.

So Louis laughed. He cackled so loud and so hard he had to lay down on the (now empty but for himself) bench, the image they both made, Marcel groaning laying down on the floor, Louis almost out of breath from laughing so hard, bringing some passerby's attention by its strangeness.

What a pair of complete idiots they made, laying down in the middle of a park on what was supposed to be a romantic date around the city: Louis had tears of mirth running down his cheeks, Marcel had grass sticking to his gelled up hair (and a sore butt).

So it goes.

When they controlled themselves, Louis still panting a bit, they realized it was time to go to their restaurant if they didn’t want to lose their reservations. Marcel got up with no grace, while Louis stayed exactly where he was, just watching him move.

“Marce?”

“Yeah?” He answered, looking down at Louis’ still laid on the bench, no sign of getting up anytime soon, while Marcel was trying to clean his clothes from the dust and grass he’d fallen in.

“Do we still have to go? To this mysterious restaurant of yours?”

“There’s nothing mysterious about it, I just happen to like their menu.” Marcel fixed his glasses, hands intertwining nervously in front of him. “Why? Don’t you want to go?”

“Not really. I’m very comfy here.”

“You’re laying down on a bench…”

“Yes.”

“In the middle of a park…”

“And?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Marcel tilted his head. A wind passed by them, ruffling Marcel’s formal clothes and the bit of grass still stuck on his hair.

Louis shrugged. “A bit.”

“And you still don’t want to go?”

“Nope.”

“I made reservations, Louis.” Marcel passed an exasperated hand on his forehead, trying to access the situation, to still follow his thought out plans for tonight. “I had the night planned out.”

Louis hummed. “That you did. But hear me out: we can stay here, buy some hot dogs from that lovely lady over there and I can tell you all about how I once made Liam cry by pranking him non stop for a week. We could also stargaze, I hear it’s very romantic for a first, well, second date.”

“Louis, we’re in the middle of London, there are no stars out. Wait, you made Liam cry? How so?”

“No, no. You’ll only get to hear it if we stay right here, take it or leave it.”

Marcel sighed, sitting down by the small space beside Louis’ feet. “This is not how I planned our first date going.”

“Did you plan to actually fall on it?”

“Not really.”

“So why should we stick to your plan? I’m having fun here, aren’t you?”

Marcel smiled down at the ground, shyly pushing his glasses up. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, sure, why not. Okay, I mean, if you’re having fun, I mean, I don’t think there’s any problem in cancelling the reservations and-”

“Marce, you’re babbling again.”

“Sorry. Right. Sorry. You said you’re having fun. Ok, then. I’ll call them.”

Louis smiled and looked up to the sky, murmuring “you do that”, waiting for Marcel to finish his call. He closed his eyes, letting his voice wash over him, not really absorbing any words. It really was a lovely night out. Kind of perfect for dating indeed.

“Oh.”

“What?” Louis asked distractedly, eyes still closed as he enjoyed the chill evening settle on his bones.

“I just got off the phone with the manager. Apparently they had a gas leak and they had to close off. They called to let me know, but I had my phone off.”

“Why did you have your phone off?” Louis opened an eye to curiously look at Marcel.

Marcel mumbled something, the hand that wasn’t holding his phone scratching his nose to distract Louis from the question.

“Sorry, what was that?” Both eyes open now, Louis tilted his head, his full attention on Marcel’s every move.

Marcel sighed, “I said,” he turned to Louis, a sheepishly look on his face, “I had it off so nothing could distract me from you.”

Huh.

“It must be destiny then.” Louis whispered, blinking in disbelief of the person in front of him. Marcel - and everything he was and did. “Fate is trying to tell us we should be buying hot dogs from the lovely lady right there.” He finished, a small smile playing by his lips, soft gaze on Marcel’s face, waiting for his inevitable reaction.

Marcel squeaked, both hands shutting his mouth quickly, trying to contain the loud noise he just made. Louis bit his lips smugly, happy with himself.

“Let’s go, then,” He got up, hands slapping his arse to take the dust out before extending them towards Marcel, to help him up, “our lady awaits us.”

Marcel blushed, scared eyes coming up from Louis’ hand to his face before he stumbled upwards, holding Louis’ wrist instead of his hand. “Yeah, ok, let’s go.”

They walked side by side towards the food kiosk nearby, a middle aged woman manning it with an apron, a net on her hair and a grumpy look on her face.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Marcel began politely, “we’d like two?” at Louis’ nod he continued, “two hot dogs, please.”

The woman grumbled, “do I look like I’m old, boy? Your grizzled grandma? Call me Miss or don’t talk to me at all,” before starting to prepare their order.

Marcel turned with wide eyes to Louis, who tried to stop his smile from spreading, biting his lips to stop a giggle. She handed Marcel the first one, who quickly passed over to Louis and waited until his was finished to take a first bite, a dollop of mustard falling onto the ground.

“Aren’t you going to drink anything with that?” She asked abruptly.

“Uh,” Marcel began, lips yellow from his hot dog.

“Two cokes, please. And some napkins, if you don’t mind.” Louis replied.

As he got the cans in his hands, juggling between them and his hot dog, Marcel paid for the food, grabbing some napkins and turning away after thanking her.

A few steps away, they both started to laugh, shoulders shaking in mirth, sitting back down on their original bench.

“Now I understand why people say fate is a bitch.”

“Louis!” Marcel laughed harder, “That’s rude!”

Louis shrugged. “Still true.”

They ate in silence, watching the people walking around them, the wind rustling the trees near them, stirring up some fallen leaves. Louis took a small sip from his coke, attention turning back to Marcel who seemed distracted, watching delighted a family of obvious tourists take pictures of the park, their children playing around the couple.

“Marce,” Louis began.

“Hm?” Marcel turned his gaze to Louis, lips still dirty with mustard.

“Come here, let’s toast our first date.”

Confusedly, Marcel raised his can of coke, but Louis shook his head.

“No, no, like this, come on.” Louis raised the hand holding his hot dog, intertwining it with Marcel’s, their arms back to their mouths just like newlyweds drank their sips of champagne at weddings. Louis wiggled his eyebrows to Marcel, taking a bite of his hot dog and watching as Marcel did the same. They both giggled, munching on their bites and untangling their arms, Louis making silly faces at Marcel - who cackled so hard he accidentally spit a bit out of his mouth.

“Oh God,” Marcel mumbled, hands raised to hide his mouth as Louis laughed out loud, arm raised to hide his crinkled eyes away. After it, they both finished eating with no incidents, Marcel not making eye contact with Louis, cheeks still rosy, and Louis giggling now and then.

“Hey,” Louis gestured Marcel over, napkin in hand, “you forgot to clean a spot.”

Marcel whimpered, eyes closing in shame as Louis cleaned a bit of sauce from his cheek. Satisfied with it, Louis gave a little peck to Marcel’s lips, winking at him when he opened his eyes in wonder.

“At least it wasn’t my chocolate icing this time.” He giggled as he gathered their dirty napkins and threw it by the bin beside the bench.

Marcel whimpered again. “You saw it?”

“Of course I did.” Louis giggled, balling up the last napkin and throwing it into the garbage can.

“This is so embarrassing.” Marcel moaned, head thrown back in defeat.

“You’ll survive.” Louis answered, getting cozy against Marcel’s side, head fitting into his neck, fingers interlacing with Marcel’s nearest hand. “Found any stars up there yet?”

“No,” Marcel squeaked, then cleaned his throat. “I mean, no. But I saw an airplane or two. We could pretend they’re like shooting stars.”

Louis groaned. “That’s so lame. You’ll never know about how I made Liam cry now.”

“Hey, that’s unfair!” Marcel poked Louis arm pointedly. “I suffered through a rude lady and about three different embarrassments for it, I deserve to know it now.”

“Nope.” Louis laughed when he realized Marcel was pouting. “You haven’t unlocked the Liam blackmail achievement yet. Try it next time, traveller.” Louis tapped his fingers to Marcel’s chest. They stood quiet for some time, breaths in sync, just watching how their bodies worked together. “Now, forget about Liam and let’s come back to where we were. Airplanes.” Marcel groaned while Louis snickered loudly. Oh, it was going to be fun. “Let’s pretend they’re UFOs instead. They’ve come to take you back to your home planet, Marce. What’d you tell them?”

Marcel clicked his tongue, finally getting completely comfortable with Louis against him, his arm pulling him closer by the waist. Their bodies fitted together like they were strangely supposed to.

“How’d you know I’m an alien? That’s where I’m travelling from?” At Louis’ shrug, he continued. “I’d ask them if I could take you home with me, of course.”

“Rude, my mum always told me to only let cute boys kidnap you after _at least_ your third date.” Louis tilted his head, nosing Marcel’s neck, making him shiver.

“Very smart piece of advice from your mum, I’d say.” Marcel turned his head back to Louis, their mouths getting close enough to kiss. “I bet she’s as lovely as you.”

“No mum wooing until the third date either.” Louis murmured, eyes focused on Marcel’s lips. “No mum speaking while I’m about to kiss you as well.”

“Are you?” Marcel whispered.

“What?”

“About to kiss me.”

“We’ll see.” Louis said the words against Marcel’s lips, the teasing enough to make Marcel tighten his hold on Louis’ fingers, his other hand coming up to mess Louis’ hair, bringing their mouths closer together. Time passed around them, both unaware of their surroundings but of how their lips, tongues and teeth worked around the other, little sighs leaving their mouths now and then as they angled their heads, getting acquainted with each other through their lips.

As they separated, Louis pecked Marcel one last time, licking his lips and opening his eyes to see Marcel had his still closed, a satisfied smile on his glistening lips.

“You taste like mustard.” Louis passed a hand through his hair, trying to put it back in place, his voice a tone too rough.

“You taste like happiness.” Marcel replied, a cheeky glint in his eyes as he looked back at Louis - who groaned, cheeks tinted in pink despite his eyeroll.

“You’re so cheesy, Jesus.”

“Like Gouda.” Marcel chuckled at Louis’ delicate slap on his chest. “But, hm, you say that but you like it.” He scrunched his nose, a gleeful look on his face as he pushed his glasses up, surprising Louis with his cheekiness. “You’d even let me take you back to my home planet without complaints, _traveller_.”

Louis focused on Marcel’s face, paying attention to how smudged his glasses looked reflecting the night lights, how his gelled hair was sticking up after their make out session, how his dimples carved his flushed cheeks.

“Maybe. But then you’d have to make it up for me, alien boy. Take me out every night and show me the wonders hidden in Mars.”

Marcel laughed out loud, “I’m not from Mars, I’m pretty sure I’d be from Jupiter. Maybe Venus.”

“You look like a Sailor Mercury to me.”

“Fuck, Gemma was obsessed with that cartoon. Was Sailor Mercury the lesbian one?”

“No, she was the water one. Short hair, blue clothing. You’d look good in blue. Is Gemma your sister?”

“Yeah, older than me. Made me watch her favourite cartoons and play with her dolls all day long. She’s my best friend to this day. Still bossy as hell.”

“Sounds like she’d go well with my younger sister, Lottie.”

“Yeah,” Marcel took Louis’ hand in his, biting the corner of his lips before asking, “does it mean I could be Sailor Freddie Mercury then?”

Louis stood abruptly, taking his hand from Marcel’s hold and shaking the dust off his clothing. “That’s it, end of date, goodbye Marcel Styles, I hope you live to regret your punny ways.”

“No, no, come here,” Marcel laughed, bringing a willing Louis back by his hips, huge hands positioning Louis between his open legs, Marcel still sitting looking up to a standing Louis. “I’m so very sorry, I promise I won’t say it again.”

“Good,” Louis put his hands on Marcel’s face, fingers playing with his huge glasses (everything in Marcel seemed to be huge, Jesus fuck), pushing them up and down his nose. “Otherwise I’d be obligated to punish you in the name of the moon.”

Marcel laughed, a honky kind of laugh Louis was delighted to bring out of him. It wasn’t anything new, he’d seen and made Marcel laugh a thousand times before. Yet somehow, it felt different now. So he brought his lips closed to Marcel cheek, biting his dimple, laughing along with him, mouth moving down until they were kissing again among their giggles. They kissed for a while, mindful of how late it was getting but unwilling to end it.

“Come on,” Marcel murmured against Louis lips, sucking Louis’ lower before letting it go, “it’s getting late, we should go back. I have to catch the train back home tomorrow and I’d like to rest a bit before I have to face my mum’s prying questions.”

“You asked me out on a date the day before you are travelling back home? Why?” Louis questioned incredulously.

“Because I could barely wait to take you out,” Marcel shrugged. “Also I was afraid I’d lose my nerve if I dragged it for too long.” He sighed, “ _also_ , because if it was a complete disaster and you told me to never speak to you ever again I’d have my mum and a marathon of Lord of the Rings to comfort me.”

“Nerd,” Louis giggled, hands passing through Marcel’s hair, putting it back in place and imperceptibly brushing off the bits of grass still stuck to it.

“Did you just realize that?” Marcel joked, getting up from the bench, the height difference between them emphasized by how close they still were, whispering into each others mouths.

“Yeah, I’m a bit slow on the uptake.” Louis looked from Marcel’s mouth to his eyes, a bit disgruntled by how shorter he was now, before taking Marcel’s hand in his and taking them to their way back to Louis’ house. He’d be damned if he wasn’t taken back home tonight.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Mumbled Marcel, legs tripping as he followed Louis, fingers intertwining.

Their way back was similar to before, although Marcel seemed less nervous than he was then. He only stuttered or stumbled once or twice, mainly when Louis laughed of one of his stories or when Louis shared one of his most embarrassing ones. He was rapidly opening up to Marcel, recounting memories from his outings with Liam, Niall, Zayn, “the other lads”, and even one of his family when they’d come visit, not holding back. Marcel was ecstatic, biting his lip and giving Louis his full attention every time he did it, their joined hands swinging back and forth jokingly. Soon enough they were back to Louis place, snogging a goodbye near the building’s closed door.

“So, this was fun.” Louis licked his lips, stepping back from Marcel’s warmth.

“Yeah?” Marcel fixed his glasses, sparkling green eyes hidden behind the lenses.

“Yeah. I’d like to do it again, if you want.” Louis tilted his head, eyebrows raising as Marcel looked to his mouth then back up again.

“I want. I do, very, very much.” Marcel nodded enthusiastically, a bright smile illuminating his face against the night.

“Cool. I think this is when you ask for my phone number, or would you rather keep sending me awkward facebook messages?” Louis teased him.

Marcel facepalmed. “Yes, please, Louis Tomlinson. Would you mind giving me your phone number so I can ask you on a date again? Preferably one where I won’t make such a fool of myself?”

Louis already had his hand near Marcel’s bottom pocket, cheekily grabbing his phone out of it to save his own number. After he did it, saving his name as Louis (; , he sent himself a message to have Marcel’s as well.

“There you go. All set up. Now off you go, chop chop, your mum waits for you. No need for the nerdy marathon, though, only if you want it.” Louis shooed Marcel with his hands, a small smile on his lips. Marcel nodded, phone still clutched in his hands before he stepped closer to Louis, a small peck of lips and then he was gone. Louis watched as he walked down the street, stopping in the middle of it to turn back to Louis, a huge smile appearing on his face as he waved his goodbye, a spring on his steps until he was out of sight, turning on the corner.

Well, that’d been.... something.

Louis shook his head, recalling the whole night in his mind as he went up to his apartment, Niall still waiting for him on their couch as usual.

“How’d it go?” He asked, curious glint in his eyes as he turned to watch Louis taking his shoes off. “Got here way later than I thought you would, it’s almost time for me to go to work. Although, to be honest, I had high faith in Marcel, just not so much on his wooing skills.”

“It was…” How had it been? “It was what it was.”

Niall glowered at him. “That doesn’t say shit, Louis. I need deets. _Deets_.”

Louis shrugged. “I’m still processing it. It was great, but then again half the night he had grass on his hair from falling out on the park ground.”

Niall laughed out loud. “Amazing! That’s amazing.”

Louis licked his lips, a smile spreading slowly on his face. “Yeah, it was.”

He winked at Niall, ignoring his questions of what it meant and wouldn’t Louis tell him all the details and went back to his bedroom. Liam was probably out or holed up in his room, so Louis got ready for bed unconcerned of how early he was going to on a friday night, taking his time in the shower just like he needed it, brushing his teeth with a smile, remembering how well he’d been kissed that night. As he laid down in bed, the bouquet by his bedside table, laptop open to browse a bit, maybe watch an episode or two, he got the idea he wanted from Liam’s stupid face staring back at him from a tagged facebook picture. He unlocked his phone, looking for the last message he’d received to add another one.

_Mark it down your calendar cuz next week we’ll go out dancing ;)_

As ‘ _Sailor Freddie Mercury is typing…’_ appeared immediately on his screen, Louis snorted loudly, a smirk taking place on his face.

**_Can’t wait!!! XXX_ **

*

 

  1. **Three**



They texted. Non. Stop.

Marcel was still weird in his messages, but at least there wasn’t much physical fumbling, stumbling or falling in it. Just a few typos, a string of endless nonsense talks and endearing one lines.

**_Knock knock_ **

_no_

**_Knock knock_ **

_n o_

_fine k no need to pout jesus_

**_How did you know I was pouting?_ **

_i’m sitting behind u_

**_Really????????_ **

**_No, your not!!_ **

**_Liar_ **

**_I’m all alone here, I’d very much like if you were behind me_ **

**_I mean_ **

**_Not like that_ **

**_Not that I wouldn’t mind_ **

**_Sorry, that was inappropriate_ **

_Knock knock_

**_!!!!_ **

**_WHO IS IT??_ **

_It’s me, Louis_

**_LOUIS WHO?_ **

_Louis who would very much like to be behind you_

**_…_ **

**_It rhymed_ **

_fuk off_

So Louis couldn’t really predict how tonight was going to go. All he knew was that he was endeared and somewhat excited to see how Marcel would fit with them out on a club night. As he nervously checked his phone yet again, ignoring Liam and Niall making fun of his jitterish last minutes, he opened his last texts with Marcel.

_so did you check your calendar today?_

**_YES! And it says ‘going out clubbing with Louis!!!!!!! xxx’_ **

_funny that. mine says ‘get marcel so drunk he kisses Liam again’_

**_LOUIS! You all promised to never mention that again!_ **

_i did no such thing_

**_Plus, I’d much rather kiss someone else_ **

_who?_

**_You know who ;)_ **

_i actually have no idea who_

**_Oh_ **

**_I’m sorry for assuming, I mean._ **

**_Sorry! I was too forward to assume something like that i inagime_ **

**_I mean i’m sorry let’s pretend i didn’t say that_ **

**_Sorry_ **

**_It’s a night out as friends, then?_ **

**_I can do that_ **

_i was joking, marce, i’d much rather you kiss me as well_

_and yes it’s a date between us_

_just. the guys will be there as well_

_unless you don’t want to?_

**_I DO! Very much to take you out on a date tonight and whenever else you want_ **

_good. it’s settled then, date night, 10pm on front of the club, just you and me_

_and the boys, but the date is just for you and me_

_good?_

**_YES!!!!!!_ **

_wear something nice. NOT FORMAL!!!_

And nothing else. Louis checked the time again, it was a quarter past ten. Marcel was nowhere to be seen and the fear of being stood up started to rise in his bones. No messages, no phone calls. They’d been texting the whole week, flirting a bit, talking a fuckton about nothing and everything at once, but it was just today they explicitly said they were going on another date, with a heavy promise of kissing, or a bit of groping. Perhaps he’d scared Marcel off? Or he didn’t have anything not formal in his wardrobe and had to borrow something? Maybe Marcel felt intimidated by going to a nightclub with Louis and got cold feet? This very same club was his men hunting scene, so it’d make sense if he heard what Louis’ been up to in a bathroom stall or two, probably from Louis himself.

“Fucking finally, Marcel, that only took forever,” Niall’s irish accent cut Louis’ mental rambling, his eyes going up from his phone to the dimpled smile before Louis, an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry, guys, I’ve never been to this part of town before. Kinda got lost.” Marcel answered the others, looking at them briefly before turning completely to Louis. “Hi, Lou.”

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Louis could barely get the words out of his dry throat, eyes roaming Marcel’s body from head to toe. His gelled hair and huge glasses were the same as usual, but the yellow hawaiian shirt, leather jacket, skinny jeans and boots were a new addition. Marcel scrunched his nose, a blush forming on his face as he looked down to his hand shyly holding Louis’.

“You told me to wear something not formal,” Marcel began, voice squeaking a bit. Luckily Louis’ entire focus was on him, so the street noise couldn’t distract him from Marcel’s words. “Don’t you like it?”

Only Marcel would understand ‘wear a hawaiian shirt instead’ out of Louis’ earlier message. But somehow, God knew why, it suited him.

“I do,” Louis whispered, watching as a bright smile grew on Marcel’s face, just for Louis.

“Oi, lovebirds, let’s get going before the line gets too long.” Niall cut them again, a sly smile towards Louis before he turned to catch up with Liam already some steps in front of them.

“Let’s go then.” Louis stepped forward, using their holding hands to pull Marcel towards them, only to be stopped by Marcel’s other hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Marcel biting his lips, a glint in his eyes.

“First, let me just...” Marcel began, head moving down to kiss Louis softly, lips barely moving together. He then straightened himself, scrunched nose as he fixed his glasses and pulled Louis to their awaiting friends. “Now we can go.”

Marcel only tripped twice on their way inside the club. Louis counted it as a win.

As they walked inside, Liam guided them to the coat room to rent a locket for them to put their stuff in. While they waited their turns, all three of them out of their coats except for Marcel, Liam started the questioning.

“Marcel, of all these years of knowing you, you’ve never accepted my invitations to go out. What changed?” The teasing smile on his face made it quite clear he knew what it was.

“Uh,” Marcel began, casting a sideways glance to Louis. They were still holding hands. “Louis asked me this time around and I couldn’t say no.”

“Is this your first time in a club as well?” Niall teased, prompting a small frown to appear on Marcel’s face.

“Of course not. I may not go out every week, but I’ve still done it once or twice.” There was a put out look in his eyes, Niall and Liam not minding it as they turned to talk to the lady behind the counter.

“What is it?” Louis asked, his small hand smoothing the frown lines on Marcel’s forehead.

“It’s stupid.”

“Come on, say it anyway and I’ll be the judge if it really is or not. It’s not as if we haven’t had our share of stupid talks anyway.” Louis gave him a small smile, earnest eyes waiting for Marcel to open up. Instead, he sighed and shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s just. I know what I am, you know? I’m aware of how I look and act, and I’m quite comfortable in it. I just wish people wouldn’t patronize me so much, especially those I consider friends.” Marcel finished quietly, watching their hands together, slowly intertwining their fingers.

Louis hummed, the fingers caressing Marcel’s face going down to hold his jaw, a somewhat guilty look on his eyes. “That’s definitely not stupid, and I apologize for every time I’ve done it.”

“It’s okay,” Marcel whispered, looking at Louis’ eyes.

“No, it’s not.” Louis replied firmly, feet up on their tiptoes to bring their lips together. “We should know better than to underestimate you, Marcel Styles. Especially me.”

A goofy smile lit Marcel’s face up, his dimples a small gift for Louis.

“Marcel, give me your coat. You won’t be able to breath inside there in it.” Liam poked Marcel’s arm, bringing their attention back to the other two boys looking curiously at them. Marcel apologized, separating himself from Louis and fumbling with his jacket to take it off, pocketing his phone and wallet in his jeans and giving it to Liam with a small thank you. Louis frowned.

“Since when do you have tattoos?” Louis asked incredulously.

“My first one I was 18.” Marcel answered him cheekily.

“Sick!” Niall pushed them towards the door leading to the dancefloor, “I’m scared shitless of them but you have some nice ones, Marcel. Cool as shit.”

Louis should know better than to still underestimate Marcel, and yet, here he was, ogling at a mix of mermaid, rose, eagle, anchor. Eyes wide open, he looked up to see Marcel through the club’s lightning biting his lower lip, a small shrug to Louis as if to say “what can you do, I like them”. As his cock twitched in his trousers, Louis had to agree. Cool as shit.

They moved towards the bar, each of them ordering a drink - and a coke for Marcel. He took a sip of his pop sheepishly, as if afraid of what Louis would think of him, eyes cast down.

“Hey, what’s that?” Louis flicked Marcel’s nose, needing his attention back to him.

“Sorry, it’s just, I wasn’t sure if you really wanted me to drink with you tonight.” He grimaced. “I’m just really not comfortable with alcohol.”

“I want us to have fun, yeah?” Louis tapped Marcel’s shoulder. “Come now, it’s our date night. I want us to be as at ease with each other as it was last time. Or do you think our chemistry is over already?” Louis wiggled his eyebrows.

“You think we have chemistry?” Marcel gasped, owlish eyes open in wonder behind his glasses.

“Obviously, why else would I ask you out again?” Louis asked confusedly.

“I don’t know, maybe you were just being nice to me.”

“Don’t sell yourself so short, Marce. You’re amazing.”

Marcel blushed. “I normally don’t, it’s just you, I guess.”

Louis averted his eyes, biting down the smile on his lips. “Come on, let’s go dance. Move your body for me, Styles.”

They moved to the dancefloor, looking for Liam and Niall and joining them in the middle of it. They watched Marcel and Louis walk in their direction, waving at them so they could find their way better among the crowd. When they got to the other two, Niall and Liam were already laughing at each other, watching the people around them, probably looking for someone to hook up with. Louis rolled his eyes, turning himself to look at Marcel, hips moving to the beat of the music, prompting Marcel to do the same. Marcel shook his head imperceptibly, gaze sliding to the people around them, choosing to drink his coke instead. Louis shrugged, movements fluid matching the rhythm of the song, body loose to the thrum of the music.

The night passed in much like that, Louis lost in the strobing lights, body dancing freely, drink in hand, trying to engage Marcel who just stood there, sometimes laughing at Louis’ antics, bopping his head awkwardly, mostly just admiring what he was like. When his cup was empty, Louis left Marcel with a peck to his lips, following Liam to the bar. After they asked for their drinks, Liam turned to Louis, a happy glaze in his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Liam laughed, then continued. “It’s just. Marcel’s crush on you was pretty obvious, I just didn’t know you liked him back.”

Louis clicked his tongue. “Why do you say that?”

“I mean, Marcel is a pretty laid back guy but he turns into a complete mess whenever you’re around. He’s a bit weird, sure, but he gets so much worse whenever you breathe around him it’s insane.” Liam was shouting by Louis’ ear, some words getting lost by the loudness of the club but the meaning behind them getting across pretty clearly. “And now I see you two and I’ve never seen you this comfortable around any of the dates you’ve brought along to our outings. It’s quite insane, to be honest, looks like you’ve been dating for a month or more when I know it’s been a week.”

Louis startled at Liam’s words. Surely it hadn't been like that, had it? They got along well, better than Louis could ever think they would, but not as much as Liam was trying to say.  Their previous encounters before the first date, even if very friendly were nothing but brief.  They’d only been on one date, texting forth and back not enough material to make someone so comfortable around the other.

“How could that even be possible, Liam?” Louis questioned, a bit lost in the impossibility of the meaning in Liam’s speech.

“I don’t know,” He shrugged, taking the drinks from the bartender and shouting back at Louis over the music. “I guess you guys just clicked.”

They moved back towards their spot on the dance floor to see Marcel by himself, hips moving side to side timidly as he waited for them to come back, both hands around his empty can.

“Where is Niall?” Louis asked him, passing the water bottle he’d bought to Marcel, who accepted delightedly, throwing the empty one away before turning back to Louis.

“He found a pretty brunette to flirt over there,” he pointed in their direction, Louis and Liam craning their necks to see Niall snogging someone against the wall, “and I told him to go, that I’d wait for you guys here.”

Louis lifted himself on his tiptoes, pecking Marcel’s lips softly, whispering a ‘thanks, babe’ against his mouth.

“Yeah, I should go,” Liam began, “I’m not very fond of third wheeling. Wish me luck so I can find someone myself to spend the night as well!”

Before either could respond, Liam disappeared into the crowd, leaving Marcel and Louis alone to spend the rest of their date night. Louis smiled mischievously, turning back to Marcel.

“Is it too weird that I kind of want to snog you now? Beat Liam and Niall to the best snog of the night?”

“A bit, yeah.” Marcel confessed, snorting loudly. “Watching Niall snog someone silly against the wall made me want to become a priest, to be honest. I should leave you now and turn myself into a life of celibacy.”

“Don’t you dare.” Louis threatened against Marcel’s lips, bringing him down by the neck so they could kiss in the middle of the dance floor, not a single care for the world moving on around them. They separated after a while, Louis taking his arms off Marcel’s shoulders, lifting his cup to take a sip of his drink while Marcel kept his hands on Louis’ waist, using it as leverage to start moving side to side. His gelled hair was a mess, barely holding together, some strands of hair falling down to his forehead.

“What’s this?” Louis wondered aloud, voice lifted in a lazy sort of question.

“I’m dancing.” Marcel smiled, movements getting bolder, shoulders joining the rhythm of his feet.

“You call this dancing?” Louis raised his eyebrows teasingly.

“Yup.” Marcel took his hands off Louis’ waist, moving them in front of his chest in jerky waves, a silly smile on his face. “I’m actually a master of dancing, I just didn’t want to embarrass Liam and Niall when they realized who was right before them.”

Louis laughed out loud, drink sloshing in his cup, dripping down his hand as his whole body giggled in mirth at Marcel’s horrible dance moves. Marcel seemed delighted by Louis reaction, improvising his movements, turning them more ridiculous just to make him laugh harder. He had his hands up high, hips moving sexily in circles, a sultry look on his face.

“You look like a drunk giraffe.” Louis giggled, eyes crinkling as he took a sip of his drink.

“I look like the one that you want,” Marcel wiggled his eyebrows, flushed face as he danced like the iconic scene of Grease. Louis copied his movements, both of them laughing, dancing completely out of rhythm of the song playing around them, out of sync of the bodies surrounding them, lost in their own little bubble of Louis&Marcel.

Maybe Liam was right, Louis thought as he got closer to kiss Marcel, licking into his mouth, both of them still giggling a bit. Maybe they really were behaving more at ease with each other on their second date than Louis ever had in past experiences, as if they’d been together for quite longer than - well, they weren’t even properly together yet. Louis tilted his head, deepening the kiss, one hand holding his drink and the other clutching Marcel’s face closer to his, the hands holding his waist causing heat to run over his body. Liam may be right in questioning it, but Louis was the one who saw no problem in how they were. Maybe knowing Marcel before had eased things out, maybe they really had just clicked. Who knew. Either way, he was having too much fun to stop it now.

And fuck, was he having fun. Since their first date, Louis couldn’t stop thinking about Marcel - _about them_ \- and how it seemed to be the date he’d been waiting for, somehow. And now this. Even with his weird moves, Louis felt attracted to how Marcel’s body moved, how his arms flexed or his neck extended when he drank the last gulps out of his bottle. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, maybe he’d felt like this since their first kiss. Who knew.

“Come to the bathroom with me,” Louis whispered against Marcel’s open mouth, nibbling his lower lip before he could look up to see his answer.

“Okay?”

They threw their drinks away and dodged bodies until they made it to the bathroom, Louis ignoring the two guys by the sink and pulling Marcel with him inside the stall.

“Louis?” Marcel asked, voice high in curiosity.

“Listen, Marce, I don’t want to force you into doing anything you don’t want to do, but,” Louis picked at the buttons in Marcel’s hawaiian shirt, staring at his chest instead of his eyes, “if you want to do anything, I’d love to have you.”

Marcel gulped. “What do you mean?”

“It might be too soon, I know, but I kind of want you.” Louis glanced upwards into Marcel’s eyes. “You can have me, if you want to as well.”

“Fuck,” Marcel pushed Louis against the stall, kissing him fiercely, hands on his hair and hips, positioning Louis as he wanted to make the kiss more heated, deeper. When they parted for a minute, Marcel whispered in Louis’ ear, the hand in his hair tilting his head enough for it. “When you asked- I kinda hoped but- God, Louis, you have no idea how much I want you, how long I have wanted you.”

“Is that so?” Louis teased, way too pleased by Marcel’s reaction to his proposition. He may not have planned how their night would end up, but the way things were going seemed to fit quite well with Louis’ program.

“Yeah,” Marcel groaned, hand on Louis’ hip tightening its hold as he kissed Louis again. It was a filthy kiss, too messy to have in public, tongues licking at each other and teeth dragging over lips. They got lost in it for so long that when Marcel stopped to whisper at Louis’ mouth, Louis was too dazed to properly follow the line of talking they had before. “Fuck, I’ve had a crush on you for so long it’s insane. Since the first time I saw you, I’d bet. And to see you off with other guys, not knowing if I’d ever have a proper chance with you drove me mad. I wished I were in their place so bad and now I’m here, and there’s so much I want to do with you. I promise to make it worth your while, babe. Got a long list of things I dreamed about doing with you.”

By then, Marcel started to move his hips, his cock half hard inside his trousers rubbing against a whimpering Louis. “I just wasn’t sure if I could have you, and now,” he laughed slightly, warm breath near Louis’ neck causing goosebumps to break all over him, “thought I would have to woo you with my culinary skills by our fifth date or something like that.”

“You’ve got culinary skills?” Louis asked curiously.

“I used to be a baker.” Marcel shrugged, glasses fallen to the tip of his nose as he looked down at Louis, both still leaning against the stall.

“This is by far the worst dirty talk I’ve ever been part of, but fuck is it working.” Louis moaned, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the stall, exposing his neck for Marcel to kiss softly.

“How do you want to do this?” Marcel sounded serious, focused on kissing and licking at the skin underneath Louis’ jawline and his neck.

“We can try your list later, right now I want you to go down on me. Can you do that?” Louis shifted his hips, rubbing his cock on Marcel’s leg to show just how hard he already was. Lame dirty talk or not, it was really working.

“I can do that, yeah.” Marcel gulped, moving back to look into Louis’ eyes. “I’d be overwhelmed to do so.”

“Marce,” Louis groaned, “no long words while I’m waiting for you to suck my dick, can we promise that?”

“We can, but then I wouldn’t be permitted to tell you how much of a tizzy I am in to have brought a peach flavoured condom,” Marcel giggled, “so your cock tastes like a lollipop as you deepthroat me.”

“You little shit, if you give me a grammar kink I swear I will punch you,” Louis pulled Marcel’s hair, gaze hungry on his open lips as a whimper escaped them. “Fuck, is it working on me.” Louis teased Marcel’s lips with two fingers, moving them slightly, wetting them on his saliva just to phantom the idea of his thrusting cock, his right hand still firm in Marcel’s mess of a gelled hair. “Get to work, pretty boy, I want your mouth wrapped around me right about now.”

Marcel was already panting against Louis’ fingers on his lower lip, a second of eye contact passed between them before Marcel leaned down to kiss Louis again, shoving him harder against the stall, none of them caring much about how it trembled underneath Louis’ back, too absorbed in each other. Marcel moved his hands to Louis’ arse, picking him up to help Louis deepen the kiss, full on makeout session in a bathroom stall hidden by a thin door from the outside world.

“Marcel, where’s that condom?” Louis pulled Marcel away by his hair, hips rubbing against Marcel’s leg, searching a bit of friction for his throbbing crotch. “Come on, I wanna see you on your knees.”

Of all the times Louis saw Marcel fall to the floor, none of them were as memorable as seeing him right then, falling to his knees for Louis, the dull thud echoing through the bathroom, sounding like the sweetest music when followed by the noise of Louis opening his own trousers’ ziper. Marcel didn’t stray his gaze from Louis hands, focused on how Louis shimmed his trousers down his legs, playing with the hem of his black briefs to tease Marcel further, fingers dancing over his shaft, thumb grazing his skin, dipping just a bit inside the fabric, showing his pubes.

“Louis,” Marcel warned, his hands lifting to Louis’ thighs, pressing them firmly, a needy caress, a beg for more.

“Yeah?” Louis put his right hand inside his boxer, cupping his cock as his left one pulled it down, Marcel helping put it down further. “Peach flavoured, you said?” Louis tugged his cock, right hand moving up and down as his other one played with his balls.

Marcel fumbled with his pockets, a small hitch on his breath as his hands grazed his cock through the inside of his pocket, a triumphant smile on his face as he showed the packets of lube and condom held in his long fingers. Louis was amazed and _oh so fucking grateful_ Marcel had the insight to have brought them, even if he’d said earlier he didn’t believe anything would happen between them so soon. He was a bit disappointed in himself, to be complete honest, his foresight lacking yet again when faced with Marcel’s never ending surprises. He should know better than to disregard Marcel’s ability to take him by stride, their chemistry reason enough for Louis to want to be prepared for whatever happened tonight.

“Yes. My friends bought me a packet of flavoured ones to bring tonight, but I knew peach would suit you best of all options.” Marcel fixed his glasses, looking up at Louis, packets in hand and the other one still holding Louis’ thigh.

“Your friends bought you condoms for tonight?” Louis snickered.  

“Well,” Marcel shrugged, “I wasn’t confident we would do anything, but they forced me to bring one anyway. They’re well aware of how much I like you, even calling me a lovesick fool once or twice.” He bit his lips, his face more innocent than it should be so close to Louis’ cock.

“I really would prefer if we didn’t mention anyone else but ourselves while my cock is out, Marce.” Louis joked, fingers passing through Marcel’s hair. “And even more if you got to it soon.” He shifted his hips, cock bobbing in front of Marcel’s face, bringing his attention back to Louis’ crotch. “Put it on, I want you to suck me.”

Marcel put the lube sachet inside his shirt pocket and opened the other packet, putting the condom on Louis’ cock efficiently, “Like a fucking lollipop.” He licked his lips before putting his mouth on Louis’ tip, lips hiding his teeth as he swallowed Louis down, looking upwards to assess his reaction. Louis could barely handle how pretty Marcel looked, hair a wild mess, glasses askew and pink lips stretched around his cock, eyes glazed by deepthroating Louis, breath shallow.

Louis moaned, too loud for the public bathroom, but he couldn’t care less. Marcel swallowed around him, head bobbing back and forth, taking Louis like a fucking champ, causing him to close his eyes, head turning upwards, sensation too good to focus on anything but the hip thrust he couldn’t seem to hold back.

A particular hard thrust had Marcel moving backwards, voice rough when he said “You can fuck my mouth, Louis, I can take it. I’ve got no gag reflex.” Then he dived back down, swallowing Louis again, satisfied hum by the whimper Louis gave, by how his hands automatically moved from the wall to hold Marcel’s hair, pulling him forward to meet his hip thrusts. Fuck, Louis had never before been this glad by Marcel’s nature of oversharing and for his awfully big mouth, his eagerness to do everything right, to excel at every task he did - even if at the moment the task was to give Louis the best fucking blowjob of his life, his hip never stopping from facefucking Marcel, his breath laboured echoing in the stall, gasps leaving his open mouth as well as curses.

“Fuck, Marcel, you’re taking me so good, fuck,” Louis took his right hand from Marcel’s hair so his fingers would slide down his cheek full of Louis’ cock, his left one gripping the gelled hair harder to compensate, Marcel moaning around his cock. “Your mouth looks so pretty around my cock. Was made for it. Almost regret wearing this condom, wanted to come all over your pretty face.”

Marcel shuddered, moaning again as his right hand left Louis’ thigh to cup his cock through his jeans. Louis felt inspired to keep talking, watching Marcel’s reaction to his words and thrusts, how he barely left Louis cock in order to breathe, instead coming back again as soon as possible to take him.

“You’d look so pretty, wouldn’t you? Your mouth so red from taking me, swallowing me, your cheeks flushed as they are, strings of my come sliding down them.” His hips stuttered, his imagination getting the better of him, overwhelming him with both how he was still facefucking Marcel and how the Marcel in his fantasy looked like.

“You’d look so debauched, a mess from my cock in your mouth and my come on your face, but most importantly,” Louis moaned, his release closer, “you’d be so fucking satisfied, licking your lips to taste my come instead of fucking peach.” Louis buried himself in Marcel’s mouth and came, shuddering against the stall, eyes closed, barely hearing as Marcel let his cock go, gagging a bit, head supported against Louis’ thigh, deep breaths grazing his condom clad cock. Louis took a second to get back to himself, his surroundings coming back slowly to him, the sound of Marcel fumbling with his belt, desperate to open his trousers and get his release.

“Don’t,” Louis cleared his throat, voice rough from his orgasm. “Don’t touch yourself, I want to do you.”

Marcel whimpered, desperate for his turn. “I only had the one condom, Louis. Now I only have the lube packet and nothing else.” His voice was wrecked, deeper than Louis ever heard.

His orgasm hazed mind took a second to formulate an option, long enough for Marcel to open his trousers and pop his cock free. Louis pulled him up by his neck, hand shoving inside Marcel’s shirt pocket to take the lube out.

“You can fuck my thighs, then.” Louis shoved the packet into Marcel’s hand, turning to take off and throw his used condom in the garbage before coming back to stare at Marcel’s dumbfounded expression with a raised eyebrow.

“Come on, Marcel.” Louis turned around, hands holding himself against the stall, offering his arse to Marcel’s hungry eyes, opening his legs a little bit more. “Get me wet.”

Louis heard the noise of the sachet being opened, a second later Marcel stepping behind him, spreading the lube inside Louis’ soft thighs.

“You have no idea how crazy you make me,” Marcel’s voice was rough behind Louis’ ear, his hand warm, fingers spread rubbing lube on the skin inside his thighs. “How many times I’ve imagined having you just like this, spread for me, talking dirty to me till I came.” He huffed, hand disappearing to come back with more lube. “I mean, you talked yourself to orgasm, imagining me with your come all over my face. You have no idea how close I am just because of that.”

Louis was trembling, even if his cock was still soft by his orgasm. What the fuck. He didn’t expect to be this affected by Marcel, especially after he already came. But looking Marcel put his clean left hand beside his own, the difference in their sizes screaming before Louis’ very own eyes, was enough to remind him what he promised himself earlier.

He shouldn’t underestimate Marcel, nerdy Marcel, who had cocksucking lips and could deepthroat him in one go. Marcel who just positioned behind himself, wet right hand moving Louis’ leg to close more, tightening his hold on Marcel’s cock sitting inside his thighs - a cock Louis had seen too quickly for his liking while moving himself into place, but one he was more than eager to fuck himself on soon. Louis sighed, head thrown back to settle against Marcel’s shoulder.

“Fuck me, Marce,” Louis whispered, hips shifting minutely to drag his wet thighs around Marcel’s cock. “Look how wet you made me just for you to use.”

Marcel groaned lowly, right arm coming around Louis waist to hold him as he thrusted his hips, movement so sudden and strong it moved Louis forward to his tiptoes. Both their left hands slid upwards, tangling themselves on the edge of the stall’s thin wall, making it shake by the rhythm Marcel began fucking into Louis’ thighs. Louis crossed his feet, making the grip tighter for Marcel to fuck into, his body pliant against him, holding himself up almost solely by sitting on his lap and his left hand - his right one was over Marcel’s on his waist.

A shiver ran down his body, Marcel’s shuddering breath filling his ears as he fucked his thighs. As he used Louis to release himself. In a moment of clarity, Louis realized anyone entering the bathroom would know exactly what was happening, were it by the rhythmic shakes on the stall’s walls, were it for their shallow, loud breaths, were it for their occasional curses, were it for the small opening beside the stall’s door that let any curious fucker see a tease of exactly what was happening inside their stall.

Louis mewled, fingers scratching Marcel’s hand, heat cursing his body, threatening him to get hard again. “Marcel,” He began, focusing on the wet sounds coming from between his thighs, arse moving back to meet Marcel, his cock grazing Louis’ balls and perineum in enough of a tease to drive him crazy. “Marce, I want you to come in me.”

Marcel whimpered. “You say my name so prettily, I can hardly stand it.”

“Let it go, then,” Louis began, head turning to speak against Marcel’s neck, the inside of his thighs starting to chafe a bit. Louis hadn’t even been properly fucked but he’d still be feeling this for a while. “Come in me.”

“Fuck, Louis,” Marcel fasten his pace as much as he could without slipping out of Louis’ hold, the noise of their trousers dragging on the floor, the wet slick and their panting breaths echoing around the bathroom, the muffled music from the club not loud enough to hide it. “Fuck, fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea how much I’ve dreamed about having you. I’ll come just for you, Lou, will make you wetter than you already are. Would love to fuck you for real, though, you have such a lovely arse. I would love to fuck it full, make you feel me.”

Okay, Marcel had more of a mouth than he’d thought then. So much for his doubts about his virginity or not.

“Who says you won’t?” Louis began, “my thighs will be sore as fuck come tomorrow. Nobody but us will know why though. Us and every stranger that entered this bathroom.” Louis chuckled, freezing a second later when he realized Marcel just came, his body shuddering behind Louis, open mouth panting by his ear. They stayed like that for a second more, Marcel gathering himself and Louis wondering if he liked to do it messy and wet or if he had an exhibitionism kink. Or both.

Marcel took their hands down from the stall, stepping back and leaning down the other side of the stall, giving Louis enough distance to turn himself and clean himself with some paper. He shuffled his pants and trousers up, getting dressed while Marcel tried to even his breathing, hands passing through his hair.

“That was.” Marcel began, clearing his throat to try and sound normal. He cleaned then tucked himself inside his pants, dressing his trousers back up and fastening his belt.

“Yeah,” Louis agreed, watching Marcel try and make himself proper again. His hawaiian shirt (holy shit he just had sex with a guy wearing grandpa glasses and a hawaiian shirt and he didn’t regret it) was askew and so were his glasses, cheeks flushed adorning dimples and a huge smile in his face. The gel in his hair was gone, instead some sweat and strands so wild it looked like a poor attempt of a mohawk. Louis imagined he wasn’t much better in his soft fringe and band t-shirt.

“Let’s go back before someone kicks us out of the club,” Louis said, opening the stall door and not even feeling embarrassed by how empty the bathroom was. He just hoped Liam or Niall hadn’t tried to enter it before.

He turned to see Marcel washing his hands, looking his reflection in the mirror and trying to use water to tame his hair. Louis quickly washed his hands, gathering a bit of water on his cupped palms and turning to Marcel.

“Here, let me,” He dumped the water on top of Marcel’s head, yearning a yelp from him as the cold water slid down his face and neck.

“Louis!”

Louis cackled, delighted by Marcel’s grumpy face, even happier when he saw Marcel couldn’t hold it for long, lips opening up in a smile.

“Shut up, you cry baby. Now come here.” Louis closed the distance between them, hands massaging Marcel’s mess of a hair, butt sitting against the bathroom sink, Marcel hugging him by his hips.

This kiss tasted like peach.

 

*

 

  1. **Two**



Louis was well aware of how fast they were moving things. He just couldn’t seem to stop it.

“I don’t know what the fuck is happening to me.” Louis complained, feet thrown over Niall’s legs. Both of them were lazing around on the couch, enjoying their free time together before Niall had to go to work at the pub. Liam was nowhere to be seen, probably busy at the library or sucking up to his teacher for a internship. “It’s just Marcel, you know? How long have we known him? Liam’s nerdy friend who would pop in here sometimes but never accept any invitation to go out or have fun. But now I can’t stop thinking about him or what happened. I’m so pissed he didn’t come home with me after the club, fuck.”

Niall hummed, elated by Louis’ ranting. Even if he had his phone up to his face, he was still hanging to every word he was saying.

“Why didn’t he?” Niall wondered, eyes following Louis’ annoyed huff before focusing back on his screen.

“Fuck if I know. It had been good, okay? It was fucking awesome, to be honest.” He smiled. “I never expected what happened to happen, but I’m so fucking glad it did.”

“I don’t need details, thanks.”

“I won’t give them anyway,” Louis gave Niall his middle finger, hand falling back down to scratch his belly. “It’s just. It was good, then when we left I was about to ask him if he wanted to come back at mine… but he cut me off with a kiss goodbye and just. Left.”

“Good for me you didn’t cause I had company with me here.” Niall snickered.

“Yeah, glad for you you got laid in your bed. Sad for me.” Louis groaned. “I know he wasn’t brushing me off, you know? Fuck, we’ve done nothing but text and flirt these last few days. Fuck, I even saw him in passing this monday after class and he had been as sweet as always, and just as clumsy. I can’t stop second guessing myself though.”

“What? Why?” Niall looked at Louis as if he’d grown a second head. “You’re worried that Marcel lost interest in you? That the sex wasn’t that good?”

“Fuck no, the sex was great, I’ve touched myself more times than I should just reliving it.” Louis dodged the pillow Niall threw at him laughing.

“TMI, LOUIS! TMI.”

They laughed a bit, silence falling between them as they pondered Louis’ questions.

“What are you afraid of, then?” Niall began, softly. “You’re not one to hold onto these doubts. It is what it is, after all.”

“I know,” Louis hid his face in his hands, trying to gather his thoughts before lifting them in a shrug. “It’s. Marcel is an alright guy, I’ve always thought that. I just didn’t think he was dating material, not the kind of material I’m used to. Now look at me.” He looked sideways, suddenly shy, hands down to his chest, intertwined fingers tapping a fidgety rhythm. “Feels like I’ve dived head first.”

“Do you regret it?” At Louis’ small head shake, Niall continued. “I think it is fucking awesome, to be honest. You’re the one always complaining about Prince Charming-”

“Am not!”

“- and what not, your dates never to your satisfaction. Then comes Marcel, hawaiian shirts and sweater vests and swipes you off your feet.”

Louis grumbled something.

“What is it?” Niall leaned slightly forwards, his whole attention on Louis now.

“I said,” Louis began, voice high arrogantly, “Marcel is the one always being swiped off his feet.”

Niall rolled his eyes fondly, Louis giggles echoing through their living room.

“You’re so enchanted by him and you don’t even see it. It’s kind of disgusting.” Niall frowned. “Now that I think about it, you’ve always been giving him these coy, flirty looks.”

“The fuck?”

“Yeah, always like ‘I like Marcel, he’s dope’, then ‘Liam, be a good host, ask Marcel if he wants to sit down and stay with us’, then, ‘oh! Marcel! please! me love you so!’” Niall fake moaned, laughing at Louis curses and avoiding his punches with a raised arm.

“Shut up, Horan.” Louis felt his cheeks warm, pissed at Niall’s stupid joke, well aware he’d never thought of Marcel like that before last friday night.

“Sorry, sorry, you just made it so easy.” Niall shrugged. “But seriously, there’s no problem in diving head first. Just enjoy it. Think about lover boy all you want, shag him, date him, we don’t care. We just want to see you happy, you shouldn’t be pacing yourself.”

“Since when is Mr. Horan a relationship expert?” Louis joked, squeezing Niall’s arm to show him how grateful he was for this pep talk.

“Since when Mr. Horan had to wait for your busted arse home every failed date to cheer you the fuck up. Bloody hell, I was already planning on setting you up for a Valentine’s day radio contest or some shit like that.”

“What the fuck, Niall?” Louis laughed. “Who does that?”

Niall shrugged. “A couple friends mine got together because of one. Even won tickets for a footie match, lucky buggers. Anyway, you shouldn't worry about things, Louis. What happens, happens.”

Louis scratched his nose, self conscious of how whiny he must look, worrying about a not even labeled _thing_ with a friend of a friend who just happened to be the date Louis had been waiting for. Speaking of which, should he call back home and talk about Marcel? About meeting someone so flustered by a first kiss he fell on the ground? Better not. If things didn’t work between them he’d never hear the end of it.

“Yeah, you’re right. It is what it is, after all.”

Louis unlocked his phone, opening his chat with Marcel to see a new message waiting for him. He couldn’t contain his smile, Niall smirking at him from the corner of his eye.

**_Hey, Louis. Wanna grab a cuppa with me in that coffee shop nearby the campus? My treat, we can call it a mini-date! Xxx_ **

_omw xx_

“Gotta go. Thanks for the talk, sugarplum.” Louis got up the couch and walked to the door, putting his vans, beanie and jacket by the door on his way out. He ignored Niall’s shout of ‘You’re welcome, babycheeks! Send Marcel my hello!’, so excited he was to see Marcel again.

Maybe Louis should have planned it better, he thought when he saw his reflection on the coffee shop glass windows. It’d been a couple of days since he’d last seen Marcel, their last proper communication, if you don’t consider how frequently they’d been texting, down to the same day they had sex in a club bathroom. Monday after class didn’t properly count, not when they were both headed somewhere else but still had made time, when they saw each other, to chat for a couple of minutes and to snog a little bit more. Joggers and beanie were not exactly dating clothes, no matter how mini the dates were, not this early in a shy tentative of a relationship of sorts. But then again, he was comfortable in just being himself around Marcel. No need to woo him, he was already there - or so he said.

Louis opened the door, looking around for Marcel to see him chatting with a girl behind the counter, both of them laughing out loud. Louis took a second to think about how to greet him. Obviously there was no better choice, so he walked quietly behind Marcel, tickling him on his sides with both hands while he was distractedly talking with the girl. The yelp he gave was loud enough to echo throughout the shop, and Louis couldn’t help his own laugh when Marcel turned towards him, eyes scared and cheeks flushed.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m really, really not,” Louis cackled even harder because of the disgruntled look Marcel gave him, a pout pronounced on his lips. His eyes though shone in mirth, running all over Louis face while he still laughed out loud.

“I can see you’re not,” Marcel began, “should be expecting it to be you, anyway. Who else could be this much of a little shit?” He snorted. “Now give us a proper greeting, then.”

“Hey Marce, long time no see.” Louis giggled, getting up on his tiptoes, so Marcel could kiss Louis’ nearest cheek, whispering a greeting against it. “Oh, hi, and you are?” He turned towards the girl on the counter, who looked at their interaction with a curious smile on her face.

“Leigh-Ann,” she laughed, joyful look on her face as she stared at both of them. “We saw each other before, I think? Me and my friends were the ones pushing Marcel to go ask you out on a date.”

“Leigh-Ann!” Marcel cried embarrassed.

“Right, hm.” Louis nuzzled his face against Marcel’s neck, a shy smile gracing his face, “I think I should thank you for that.” Today’s sweater vest was argyl. Louis kind of missed the hawaiian shirt. “Kinda made my whole month.”

“You’re very welcomed!” She laughed, sweet voice mixing against the blender sounds behind the counter. Marcel said his goodbye, turning to look at Louis.

“The whole month?” Marcel squeaked, voice high, his face flushing red as Louis snickered.

“Well, you do intend to take me out on other dates, don’t you? Or is the honeymoon phase over already?” Louis joked.

“I intend to, of course.” Marcel fixed his glasses. “Tell you what, tell me what you want, you can sit down and I’ll bring them for you.”

A slow smile started to spread on Louis face, eyes crinkling as he looked at Marcel.

“I’ll have a cuppa, please. Two sugars. And a cupcake. And a kiss. Make it extra.”

Marcel snorted, hands holding Louis’ face in place to give him a small peck. “Go sit down, I’ll get your tea now.”

“Don’t forget my cupcake.” Louis slapped Marcel’s belly softly, a warning tone in his voice.

“Is it the same one from last time?”

“Yeah, I wanna see you make a fool of yourself again.” Louis smiled sweetly.

“Shut up, you were the one who did it first.” Marcel replied, but his cheeks were red already, Louis leaving him to go sit down on an empty table by the corner.

Okay, here they were again, out in a (mini)date after Louis fucked up the third-date rule and had sex on the second one. (In his excuse, if you consider their first kiss end of date one, followed by date two, then the club was date three. He’ll take it as a small victory for his dating patterns.) It was just… they hadn’t found the time since last Saturday to proper hang out as Louis wanted, Marcel claiming he had been occupied with something from his classes and Louis didn’t want to seem clingy to ask him to come over any time he could anyway - didn’t mean he didn’t message Marce all the time, though. So being asked out on a Wednesday out of the blue came as a relief. He may not have known in the beginning why he said yes to Marce, but he was quickly realizing it was probably the best decision he’d made in a while.

“You know what I was thinking?” Louis began, watching Marcel sit down in the chair on the other side of their table, in front of Louis.

“What?” He asked, handing over Louis’ cup of tea and cupcake. His hands were big enough to hold their cups and plates with no struggle, despite Marcel’s clumsy nature. Louis took some time to avert his gaze back to his earnest face.

“After last week, you proved me you’re not Sailor Freddie Mercury.” Louis blew a small breath on his cup, trying to cool it. “Your hips moves are much more Jagger than anything,” he took a small sip, “I should change your name to Sailor Mick Jagger.”

Marcel guffawed. “You saved my number as Sailor Freddie Mercury?”

Louis hummed, “yeah, but I already changed it.”

“What is it now?” Marcel’s smile was contagious, Louis’ could barely contain himself as he watched him pick his piece of pie apart. “Is it Marce? A kiss emoji? Three heart emoji?”

“No,” Louis smiled slowly, waiting for Marcel’s reaction. “It says peachy lips.”

Marcel blushed furiously, licking his lips and smiling down at his plate. Louis watched fascinated as he opened and closed his mouth, bit his lip to finally say, “I should change yours to lollipop then.” He looked at back Louis, cheeks still red.

Flirting. Marcel was flirting with him. Louis fixed his fringe, elbow up in the table to hold his chin up.

“You do that. But what was it before?” He drank for his cup, eyes never straying from Marcel.

He shrugged. “Just Louis.”

“No emoji?”

Marcel shook his head quickly. “Nope.”

“I don’t believe you.” Louis squinted his eyes.

“I mean it!” Marcel let go of his fork, a piece of his apple pie crumbling on his plate, cleaning his hands on a napkin quickly and taking his phone out. He unlocked it, fingers moving fast as he opened Louis’ name on his contacts, showing it triumphantly over to Louis. “See? Just Louis Tomlinson. No emoji. Very serious.”

“Is that your way of saying you’re taking me seriously then?” Louis smirked, finger tapping the screen absentmindedly to add an emoji to his new name.

“Yes.”

Louis stopped, looking up to stare at Marcel’s solemn face.

“Good.” Louis moved his hand to his mouth, trying to hide a small smile and his flushed face from Marcel’s sincere eyes. He settled for the peach one.

“Done.” Louis bit the inside of his lips, giving a satisfied smile to Marcel, hands down to the table to add on his façade of good boy. Marcel didn’t buy it for a second, mistrustful eyes as he turned the phone back to himself to see what Louis did. Marcel ugly snorted, hand up to his mouth to hold back the noise, ‘Loullipop’ with a peach emoji staring back at his face. Louis snorted, bringing the phone back closer to him to admire once more his geniusness before hitting the Home button, Marcel and two women who looked just like him staring back.

“This your mum and sister?” Louis gave Marcel his phone back before picking up his cupcake, taking a hungry bite.

“Yeah, they’re my best friends,” Marcel smiled softly, looking at the picture of them hugging fondly before locking the phone and pocketing it. “I miss them a lot while I’m here in London, but I talk to them all the time and visit whenever I need or can.”

“Like when you had a date the night before and needed to vent to your mum?” Louis licked his lips, mindful of any stray chocolate on his face.

Marcel groaned, “Not my brightest moment, I’m sorry. My mum made it her business to rip me a new one because of it.” He pitched his voice higher and softer, matching the tone of his mom to impersonate her for Louis to see. “‘Marcel, your date doesn’t want to hear about how you thought it was going to fail, no matter how nervous you are, honey. Think about how poor Louis must have felt. I’m honestly relieved he didn’t just turn around and run away’.” Marcel fixed his glasses, nose scrunching as Louis laughed at him. “Like, jeez, thanks mum. I’m relieved as well.”

Louis snorted. “So no Star Trek marathon that weekend?”

Marcel shook his head, “no, but she made me repeat every detail to her. I mean! Jesus, that’s embarrassing, I don’t know why I said that, sorry.” He stuffed his mouth full of pie to try and shut himself up. Louis licked his lips, hand playing with his cup lid to give him something to do other than ogle at Marcel, curiosity aflame.

“Not really, but what did she say?”

Marcel gulped down the food, drinking tea to try and stall his answer. When there was nothing else to do and avoid the question, Marcel shrugged sheepishly, trying to make himself smaller. “She said it’s been an unusual date, to say the least. Laughed particularly out loud when I told her I made that child cry by accident.” Louis snorted, remembering the scene. “Was appalled when I told her we ate hot dogs instead of a nice meal. You know. Called it a miracle when you texted me back, saying I must have done something right despite it being a disaster date. Didn’t know why it’d gone like this when ‘ _I know you can do better, Marcel_ ’”

Louis blinked, looking up to see Marcel’s apologetic shrug. It had been kind of a disaster, hadn’t it? If anyone else had asked him to go on a walk, to eat a fucking hot dog at the park and call it a date Louis would probably smack them in the balls. But then again, with Marcel he couldn’t wait to go out again, see him make a fool of himself, talk animatedly about what he liked, his memories, his passions. Louis hadn’t wanted it to end back then, and he didn’t want it to end now. Marcel had taken him by surprise asking him out on a date, but now Louis was only surprised by how well they got along together - romantically or sexually wise - and how Louis was blind to not see the potential there before. As Liam had pointed out, they clicked, company so easy Louis forgot they hadn’t been this close since the day they met through Liam, years ago. It was their official third (fourth) date and here Louis was, a soft voice in the back of his mind asking if Marcel’s mother and sister would like him, what would his own family say about Marcel.

What the fuck.

“It’s,” Louis cleared his throat, eyes cast down as he picked up his cup again. “It’s working.” He took a sip, the burn of Marcel’s gaze on his face.

When he looked back up, Marcel had his mouth open incredulously, eyes wide open. He blinked, seemed to gather himself and smiled so huge he showed his two dimples, laugh lines deep in his cheeks. Louis gazed at him from a moment, soaking himself from his happiness, trying to hold back his own reaction. He decided to mess with Marcel a bit, nonetheless.

“You’ve got chocolate icing on your face again.”

Marcel sputtered, hands desperate on his face to try and clean it before he realized, “hey! I didn’t eat no chocolate!”

By then Louis was already laughing out loud, Marcel’s indignant face hilarious to him. They finished eating in silence after it, playing footsie under the table, Louis making silly faces to make Marcel laugh (and he only accidentally spit _once_ , score), nipping bits from each other’s plates. When they were done, Marcel cleaned his hands and mouth in a napkin, staring anxiously at Louis do the same.

“What?”

“I,” Marcel began, folding his hands nervously on top of the table. “There’s a reason I wanted you to come today.”

Louis tilted his head. “Okay, is it serious?”

“Yes, but nothing bad.” Marcel pushed his glasses up, grin blinding on his face. “It’s the reason I was so busy these last couple of days, I mean, I was hopeful but I didn’t know for certain until this morning. I got the internship I wanted.” He hunched his shoulder sheepishly, as if embarrassed to be talking about his accomplishment. “So did Liam, but I think he’ll want to tell you himself.”

“You got the job?” Louis repeated, voice excited.

“I did.” Marcel replied, so giddy he looked like a child at Christmas morning.

“Fuck, Marce, that’s amazing. Congratulations!” Louis stood up, pulling Marcel up to hug him tightly. “Did you tell your mum already?”

“I texted her and Gems on the way over here.”

“Were they happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

Louis took a deep breath, comfortable to be held by Marcel, his cologne pleasantly involving Louis. “So am I. Should we go out to celebrate?”

Marcel groaned. “Please, no clubbing. Twice in a month is too much for me.”

Louis stepped back from his hold, fingers tangling with Marcel’s. “Let’s go over to mine, we can order in. I bet Liam will want to eat his happiness away as well.”

“Sounds good,” Marcel began slowly, vowels tripping over themselves hesitantly, “it’s just,”

“What?”

“I, hm, I think it will be quite hard to see each other now?” He passed a hand over his gelled fringe, “I mean, I want to very much, to see you all the time. I just thought it’d be quite difficult with my classes and your classes and work and my internship. So I thought,”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Louis joked, his mouth dry by the mere possibility of whatever they were still building ending so soon.

“No! No, that is. No. Not at all. Jesus, if someone will do the breaking up here is going to be you, I mean,” Marcel gave a self-deprecating smile. “I _mean_ , I wanted to work something out with you, you know? Talk this out? Because I really, really, _really_ want this to work. This. Us, I mean. Us.” He finished his little rant with a nervous smile, his hand fixing his glasses quickly before he hugged himself, ready to hear whatever Louis was about to throw at him.

“Is that so?” Louis bit his lower lip, trying to contain a smile that threatened to take over his face. Fuck, they might be working on getting Marcel to feel more confident around Louis, but he couldn’t deny how much he learned to appreciate whenever Marcel got particularly flustered around him. They had texted about it quite some times now, whenever Louis would make a joke about ‘clumsy marcy’ and Marcel would whine about ‘not being able to contain himself’ and how much it was ‘actually Louis fault’.

(Actually, that had been a particularly fond conversation they had. Louis might or might not have saved it just because.

Marce’s response had gone something like this:

**_Not funny!!!!!!!!! you know how i get around you ):_ **

**_it’s not my fault you’re all like_ **

**_you’re so LOUIS that i get like_ **

**_this_ **

**_so i’m blaming it on you_ **

**_it’s not fair you know, you should come with a sign or smth to warn us mere mortals to proceed with cautious_ **

_something like a choking hazard one?_

**_Exactly!!!!_ **

**_No wait_ **

**_> :( _ **

**_not funny, i’m being serious here_ **

_i bet you laughed anyway_

**_i did ): what can i say, i’m really weak for you_ **

_you’re really corny, that’s what you are_

**_real pop corny_ **

**_hey, aren’t choking hazard signs meant for little things? did you finally confess you’re small, lou? 8)_ **

_..._

_i will burn everything you love_

**_no need, you already burned yourself with that one ;*_ ** )

“Yeah, of course,” Marcel answered matter of factly, guiding them with their joined hands through the small shop, towards the exit. “So please don’t break up with me.”

Louis laughed, “I have no intention so far. Might keep you and all.”

Marcel stopped by the door, letting it close behind them and pulling Louis closer to kiss him, both giggling stupidly against each other lips.

“Good.” Marcel let go of Louis with a last peck, “race you back to your house then.” And. Left. Running and cackling madly down the street in the direction of Louis’ flat, using of his head start to try and win over him.

Oh hell no.

Louis started running after him, laughing out loud at Marcel’s antics. Fuck, but he was adorable, all gangly limbs running in formal clothes as if it wasn’t a recipe for disaster. Louis speeded as much as he could to catch up with him, suddenly extremely grateful for his own clothing choices. He saw Marcel turn to look back and see where he was, gasping when he saw Louis so close already and looking forwards again, using his long legs to boost his steps.

It happened all too fast.

One minute Marcel was up on his feet, racing down the street like a madman; the other he lost his footing and came down on the floor, seemingly to just trip on air and then fall like a sack of potatoes.

“Oh shit, Marce, are you alright?” Louis walked up to him, stopping by Marcel’s side and looking down at him worriedly.

Marcel looked up from his position down of the floor, sheepishly staring up at Louis. “Thought we agreed on no more _are you alright_ s...”

“Thought we agreed on staying with both feet on the ground,” Louis laughed as he helped Marcel get back up. “But really, are you hurt?”

“No,” Marcel quickly fixed his glasses when he was standing up again. “I mean, physically I’m fine. Emotionally I’m bruised, though.”

Louis laughed out loud, hands patting Marcel’s clothes to clean up the dust from the pavement. When he saw Marcel really wasn’t hurt, he decided to seize the moment and cheekily go patting him until he slid both hands up Marcel’s arse cheeks to grab them firmly. “Well, these certainly are fine.”

Marcel smiled wide, leaning down a bit to peck on Louis’ lips one, two, three times. “And you call me corny.”

“So corny. An entire cornfield.” Louis still hadn’t moved his hands.

Marcel didn’t seem to stop grinning before he leaned down to properly kiss Louis - although proper wasn’t the right word for what they were doing in the middle of the street. Louis licked into his mouth, a bit awkwardly since they were both still grinning, squeezing Marcel’s arse to bring him closer.

Yeah, he might keep this one alright.

 

*

 

  1. **One**



Six months later, they were still fumbling their way into a relationship.

Literally.

“Oof,” Marcel held his hand out to steady both him and Louis against the entry wall, closing the door behind him. “Jesus, I really shouldn’t have let you talk me into drinking wine.”

“It was a celebration, _Marcel_ ,” Louis laughed against his mouth, pulling him down by his terrible, colourful, _adorable_ hawaiian shirt so he could kiss him.

They made their way to Louis’ bedroom across the blessedly empty flat, sharing kisses and giggles. Louis cornered Marcel against the corridor that led to their living room to take his jacket off while still kissing him, throwing it down to the floor and opening all buttons of Marcel’s shirt as well. He stepped away from their kiss, leaving Marcel with a dazed look and crooked glasses, to run his hand down his smooth stomach, over the butterfly tattoo.

“Fuck, I still can’t believe you hide all this underneath your sweater vests.”

“Hey, you like the sweater vests.” Marcel pouted, a hint of a smile threatening to break.

“I do, baby,” Louis pecked him on the lips and went back to admiring Marcel’s body, fingers raising visible goosebumps as they passed over his nipples. “But I really do rather you out of them.”

Marcel laughed softly, taking Louis’ hand in his, “if you wanna tease me so much,” he began, voice hoarse, “do it properly.” He led Louis’ hand down to his own crotch, where Louis could feel Marcel’s half hard cock twitch at his touch.

“Fuck,” Louis mumbled, licking his lips. “That all for me?”

“Yeah, Lou,” Marcel smirked, eyes shining mischievously, “you may have gotten the leading role in that play, but tonight you’re putting on a show just for me.”

“That’s the idea,” Louis laughed softly, stepping closer to Marcel, whispering against his mouth, hand still teasing him over his jeans. “You weren’t the only one who put thought in tonight’s date, Marce. I’m fully prepared myself.”  

Marcel used his other hand to pull Louis closer by his neck, devouring him in a hungry kiss and backing him against the opposite wall. He took his time snogging Louis, pressing his body against his, leading his and Louis’ hand off of his crotch and up his shoulders so Louis could cling to him.

“Lemme see it, Lou,” Marcel stopped their kiss to whisper it, hands sliding over Louis sides so he could grab his arse cheeks. Louis moaned softly against Marcel’s mouth, hips pushing back into his hands and both arms against his shoulders pulling him down for another kiss.

Marcel let himself be distracted once more by Louis lips, falling into a pattern of kiss, lick and bite until he impatiently humped his arse against Marcel’s hand again.

“Impatient, are we?” Marcel breathed against Louis mouth, squeezing his hands once.

“I did say I prepped myself, babe. I’m more than ready for it.” Louis bit Marcel’s lip, tugging it a bit. Marcel panted into his mouth, squeezing his hands once more before trailing them to the front of Louis trousers, making quick work of his zipper and button so he could have enough space to put them inside and feel Louis’ arse, skin on skin.

“Fuck, I love your arse,” He pecked Louis’ lips, tasting the laughter in them.

“So you’ve said,” Louis pulled one of Marcel’s loose curls, so glad he’d let go of the gel style for tonight.

Marcel massaged his cheeks for some time, awed at how they fit perfectly in his hands, fingers digging indents on the flesh as he pulled them together and apart. Louis moaned once more against his mouth, asking for something, anything but this endless tease. Marcel, used by now to how Louis demanded to be treated, heard his unspoken plea and bit Louis’ lip softly, just a nip to distract him while his fingers travelled down to his hole.

“Are you still loose enough, then?” He asked, fingertips passing dryly over his puckered entrance, little tremors passing through Louis’ body.

“Yes.” Louis panted.

“Liar,” Marcel pecked his cheekbone, teasing him further by pressing his middle finger against his hole, just a pressure - not enough to properly finger him. “I can see you still need a bit more prep or I’ll hurt you.”

“Thought we liked it when it hurt a lil bit?” Louis raised an eyebrow at Marcel, leaning back against the wall and pushing his hips against his finger.

Marcel hummed, “you know I love it, but can’t hurt you tonight, babe,” he smiled cheekily before kissing him, long enough Louis almost forgot what they were talking about, “we have the whole weekend for celebration yet.” He whispered, leaving a trail of kisses from Louis’ mouth up to his ear, down his neck, till his collarbones. His fingers continued to tease his entrance, left hand firmly holding his arse cheek still.

“Why don’t we start it then, you tease?” Louis pushed Marcel away from him, smirk secure on his face, “besides, when I’m sore enough it will be your turn to ride me into oblivion, won’t it?”

Marcel gulped, eyes blown in lust as he stared down at Louis.

“Bedroom.” He spoke lowly.

“As you wish,” Louis chuckled, taking his sweater off, aware of Marcel’s eyes on him all the time. “If you want, you can even follow me.” He replied cheekily, turning towards the bedroom door with his back to Marcel, just to push his trousers and pants down his legs, bending down as he pulled it out of his legs, throwing his vans away as well, arse high up in the air.

“Cheeky bugger,” Marcel slapped him on the arse once, laughing with Louis and following him into his bedroom.

“Lights on, please,” Louis asked as he threw himself on his bed, hand automatically moving down to jerk himself off, “I wanna see how good you look while you fuck me.”

Marcel still blushed with every compliment Louis threw his way, not because he didn’t particularly believe them, but as if he still didn’t believe Louis was the one saying them. They’d been together for six months now, in a relationship for about four, and still Marcel behaved as if Louis would turn his back and walk away, as if he wasn’t in it for the long term.

He was.

He watched Marcel drop his shirt to the ground, not minding where it ended up anymore as he did in the beginning - never let it be it said they didn’t influence each other, as they clearly did. Then he took his boots, jeans and boxers off, throwing them away in the same direction as his shirt, eyes downcast, still self conscious of Louis’ eyes on him.

When Marcel lifted his gaze, he saw Louis looking at him, mouth opened and hand working over his cock slowly, dragging the pleasure of watching Marcel strip in front of him. He licked his lips, Louis mirroring the act a second later, a chill of anticipation buzzing through his spine.

“Turn over, babe,” Marcel began, walking up to his nightstand to grab the lube, “I’m gonna eat you out a little bit.”

Louis hummed in satisfaction, turning over. He left his feet propped on the floor still, bending his knees a little so he could open his legs wider, arse by the edge of the bed as he laid his torso comfortably on the mattress. He took a pillow and hugged it under his head, completely at ease, waiting for what Marcel was going to do with him.

“Such a gorgeous sight, Lou,” Marcel said as he kneeled behind his opened legs, leaving the lube on the bed as he opened his cheeks to better look at his hole. “The most beautiful one,” he spit against his entrance, rubbing his fingers against the now wet skin, “and it’s all for me.”

“Must you do this every time?” Louis feigned annoyance, but his façade was proved useless by how he spread his thighs, pushing his hips up towards Marcel’s fingers.

“You know how I like to make you wet.” Marcel huffed, a shiver running down Louis’ spine by how his breath felt against his wet hole.

“That’s what lube is for,” Louis’ complaints died down in a moan as Marcel buried his face in his crack, both hands opening his cheeks further so he could lick him properly.

“Babe,” Louis began, his left hand going back to hold onto Marcel’s hair, pulling him deeper against him. “Babe, wait, _fuck_ ,” Louis whimpered, his right hand clutching the sheets and raising his upper body so he could push his arse down against Marcel’s tongue. “Fuck, Marcel, wait a goddamn minute.” He tapped Marcel twice, hand coming down to the hand squeezing his cheek and sinking his nails against Marcel’s wrist because of a particularly throughout lick.

“Whassit?” Louis turned his head just in time to see Marcel raise his own from his arse, mouth already obscenely red, spit slick and glasses fogged up.

“Your glasses, babe, you gotta take them off.” Louis snickered as he saw Marcel blush, his right hand quickly lifting his glasses to the top of his head before going down, slapping Louis’ arse cheek once then squeezing it. “Not my fault you always forget to do it, don’t take it out on me.” He mumbled as he laid completely down against the mattress again, now turning putty against Marcel’s ministrations without his glasses digging into his arse uncomfortably.

Louis couldn’t quite hold his moans in, not when Marcel always gave his all to make Louis feel good. Right now all he could do was lay down and take every lick, kiss, suck and bite Marcel gave him, trying his best not to come before it was time - but fuck, was it hard (pun intended).

He had already fingered himself open before their night out, knowing they would come back to fuck once the celebration was done, so he had been on edge all night, waiting for the moment he could fuck himself back on Marcel’s cock as wantonly as he wanted. And now having Marcel marking him with hickeys on his arse cheeks while he fingered his already opened hole wasn’t helping his situation much.

“Marcel, grab the lube, baby, I want you to fuck me.” Marcel muffled a noise of protest against Louis, his mouth leaving a hickey on his arse before he dove down against his crack again, licking against his hole thoroughly. “Fuck, come on, leave it, I’m open enough.”

“I can see you are.” Louis looked back to see Marcel smirking, his fingers passing obscenely against his mouth to clean his spit there. “Could be a bit more, though.” He spit once more, his two fingers entering Louis with the added spit easily, even if still a little bit dry - just like Louis liked it, to be honest. Marcel lowered his head again, fucking him with both his tongue and his fingers now.

Louis could barely hear the slick sounds Marcel made between his arse cheeks, so loudly was his mewls. He couldn’t hold them back, not when he knew how much Marcel loved them but also because of how insistently Marcel was rubbing against his prostate, just the fingertips inside him while his tongue licked and fucked him as best as he could.

“Marce,” Louis panted, both his arms raising above his head so he could clutch the sheets and push himself harder against Marcel’s mouth, his cock dragging against the fabric deliciously. “I’m gonna come,” he whispered, voice weak between moans. He could feel himself on the verge of coming, thighs trembling from stimuli, his hips shifting minutely between Marcel’s tongue and fingers and the fabric against his cock.

Obviously, that was the moment Marcel chose to listen to him and stop his ministrations, taking his fingers off Louis and getting up from the floor with a last kiss to the bottom of his spine.

“Where are you going?” Louis whined, his hand searching for Marcel behind him, his head turning sideways on the mattress to try and see him. “Come back.”

“Thought you told me to fuck you?” Marcel asked airily, his glasses now back on his face as he opened the bottle of lube and spread it on his fingers cautiously.

“You were already doing that, now finish it.” Louis huffed, the high from his almost orgasm buzzing against his skin, his desperation for release so big he didn’t mind how whiny he was being. He knew Marcel could take care of him anyway.

Marcel snorted a laugh and tossed the bottle on the bed, laying down on top of Louis to kiss his neck and shoulders teasingly, loving how much Louis sighed and whined, shifting his hips to try and rub against Marcel’s cock.

“As you wish,” Marcel laughed when Louis slapped him on the side while grumbling about ‘no movie quoting in bed’. He kissed Louis neck one last time before getting up again, standing up between Louis’ legs and guiding his cock so it could fuck into Louis’ sloppy wet hole.

Louis raised his head, looking over his shoulder just in time to see Marcel enter him and pause for a moment, his hands holding onto Louis hips and his laurel tattoos framing Louis’ arse perfectly. Louis tried to fuck himself back on his cock, desperate for his release while Marcel took his time, head raised upwards as he breathed through his mouth, glasses low on his nose.

“Babe, you can move now,” Louis bit his lip, clenching his hole teasingly to try and make Marcel fuck him.

“I know, it’s just,” Marcel looked down at Louis, his hips moving minutely, slowly, dragging a satisfied sigh from Louis as he opened his legs just a tad bit more. “You feel amazing.”

“So you’ve said.” Louis joked, his eyes falling shut and mouth opening as Marcel began thrusting steadily into him, deeper.

“You can take my cock so well, baby, could fuck you all night long.” Marcel spoke, his hands grabbing Louis’ hips a bit stronger so he could push him back towards his cock, fucking him deeper.

“Want you to fuck me all night long too,” Louis whispered, his mind taken by how Marcel manhandled him on his cock, the sheets dragging against his own cock adding to the pleasure running down his body. “Love how full you make me feel.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis gasped, his hand clutching on the the sheets as his other one grabbed onto Marcel’s hand. “Right there, fuck, _yes_ , right there Marce,” Louis rolled his hips as much as he could, trying to match Marcel’s pace. “Fuck, pull my hair,” he gasped, taking his hand away from Marcel to push his upper body up, head thrown back so Marcel could reach it easier.

Marcel stopped for a moment so he could press down against Louis’ back, his left hand supporting his weight while his right one pulled Louis’ hair, moving his head sideways so he could suck and lick on the junction with his shoulder. Louis moaned, clenching a bit to prompt Marcel into moving as much as he could in the position they were, cursing softly when he began dragging his cock teasingly inside Louis, aware of their position.

“You love it when I get rough with you, don’t you?” Marcel licked a stripe from his shoulder up to the back of his ear, pulling Louis’ hair harder and ripping a moan from him. “I should make you lie down and just take what I give you.”

Louis licked his lips, his arse moving back against Marcel’s shallow thrusts. He knew Marcel wouldn’t hold much in this position but he wanted to keep riling him up anyway.

“As if,” he turned his head to murmur against Marcel’s mouth, not minding the hand still pulling his hair, “as much as I like your tongue fucking me, you’ve been lacking a lot on the other ways. Forgot how to fuck me already, Marce?” Louis fucked himself back on Marcel’s cock. “Can’t make me come on your cock anymore?”

Marcel bit Louis lip hard, his hips thrusting against him once, twice before he let go of Louis’ lip and pushed his head down against the mattress sideways, pulling his hair still and straining both his arms as leverage against the bed as he rammed into Louis hard, pulling gasped moans out of him.

“I want you to repeat that when you’re waddling tomorrow morning,” Marcel didn’t wait for an answer, instead he got up from the bed and pulled his cock out of Louis, winning a complaint because of it that Marcel promptly answered to with two quick slaps against his bouncy arse.

“Turn around, I want to see your face while I fuck you.”

Louis got up from his position with trembling legs and turned around under Marcel’s watchful gaze. He sat down with a small whimper, laying back down on the bed and propping both his feet on the mattress, his hands pulling the back of his thighs so he could open his legs wider.

“Like what you see?” Louis cheekily asked, aware of Marcel staring at his hole and trying to close it in a filthy wink.

“You know I do,” Marcel didn’t even look at Louis, too focused on guiding his cock back inside Louis. Once he was in, he tapped Louis’ hands away so he could lazily rest them above his head, giving control away to Marcel, who took hold of both of Louis’ thighs as he began the merciless pace they both wanted, fucking him hard enough the bed banged against the wall.

Louis moaned out loud, immediately overwhelmed by the noises they made together and the feeling of being fucked hard, randomly grateful the bed was tall enough so Marcel could fuck him without a strain. He let himself go with the feeling, letting Marcel manhandle him back and forth with his thrusts, his cock hard spurting pre come against his belly completely forgotten due to the ultimate need of being fucked as he wanted it.

After a particularly hard thrust he wrapped both his legs against Marcel’s waist, trying to bring him deeper, to get himself off solely by the feeling of being fucked by cock. As if able to read his thoughts, Marcel looked at him, his eyes meeting Louis’ for a moment before going back down again, admiring his body for a second - his focus on Louis’ cock making it twitch -, before coming back up with a small smirk on his opened lips. By some fucking miracle his glasses still hadn’t fallen from his nose, but his hair was wild, strands going in all directions somewhat sexily.

Louis decided to fuck with him further. He slid his hand down, slowly moving it across his body down to his cock, movement languid and sensual enough to make Marcel falter in his thrusts. He jerked himself once, twice, gathering precome on his fingers and all the time aware of Marcel’s gaze as he did it. Then he lifted his fingers back to his mouth, sucking his wet fingers noisily, making sure his cheeks were hollowed as if he was giving a blowjob instead.

“You’re fucking obscene,” Marcel murmured in awe, regaining his speed to make Louis moan against the fingers on his mouth.

It was too much. Louis tightened his legs around Marcel, sucking hungrily on his own fingers and wishing he could somehow blow his boyfriend as he fucked him. Maybe if there were two of them perhaps?

“Baby, wanna see you come on my cock. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Louis mewled on a particularly deep thrust, his wet fingers slipping out of his mouth and dragging on his lips as he trembled, his toes curling by how tight his whole body felt, on the verge of coming. One more thrust and Louis came, his eyes rolling back and his back curving upwards against the bed, hand pulling the sheets off the mattress by the force of his orgasm.

“Shit, babe, you love being fucked so much, don’t you? Never saw someone who liked to come on my cock so much as you do.”

Louis lethargically opened his eyes, aware of how frenetically Marcel was still fucking him. With a bit of effort he managed to move his trembling legs to the mattress again, spreading himself completely wide open so Marcel could use him till he came.

“I do love your cock, Marce,” Louis began slowly, dragging his fingers through the mess he made on his belly and up to his mouth to lick them clean. “Love being fucked by it.”

Either the words or the sight of Louis licking his own come must have been too much for Marcel, who came with a loud moan and buried himself to the hilt in Louis’ arse.

Louis hummed, satisfied. He watched with a smile on his face as Marcel breathed loudly, his eyes closed above Louis, his body sagging forward a bit as the high from his orgasm faded. When he opened his eyes Louis smirked, taking the hand from his mouth to call Marcel closer with a finger, asking for a kiss.

Marcel laughed slightly, pulling Louis’ legs to wrap against his waist once more and bringing him closer so he could lay down above him, both his arms encaging Louis’ head as he kissed him again and again, laughing contently against his lips and licking the taste of come from his tongue.

“Hi there,” Marcel whispered between pecks on Louis’ lips.

“Hello yourself,” Louis answered, licking his lips and using both hands (and legs) to bring Marcel closer to him, crushing his weight against him on the mattress.

His favourite part of cuddling after sex with Marcel was how well their bodies fit together. A close second was how much Marcel liked to kiss him, no matter where Louis’ mouth had been before - sometimes because of where his mouth had been before. And thirdly, but no less important, was how comfortable it was to just be with Marcel, laughing with him and just pillowtalking.

“Fuck,” Louis laughed against Marcel’s mouth, feeling a shiver course down his spine. “Baby, get up, get up, you’re crushing me.”

Marcel pouted, biting Louis’ lips once more before getting up. He took his flaccid cock out of Louis with one hand, using the thumb of his other one to push his come back inside Louis, playing with his gaping hole just a bit.

“Don’t get feisty, you prick.”

“But I do love how you gape afterwards, babe.”

Louis kicked him on the side, trying and failing to hold back a smile when he saw Marcel’s cheeky grin. It was almost crazy how much Marcel was comfortable around him nowadays, so different from the same boy who would always stutter around him or make a fool out of himself.

“Oops.”

Or not, really.

He had just dropped the bottle of lube on the floor when he tried to retrieve it from the bed, sending it sliding down under the bed.

Louis bit back a laugh, watching Marcel disappear under the bed to try and get it back. He quickly moved to lay down on the right side of it while Marcel was busy, pulling his pillows back against the headboard to wait for him to come and cuddle Louis.

When Marcel came back, glasses askew and triumphant grin in place with the bottle in one hand, Louis couldn’t contain his laughter anymore, closing his eyes and guffawing at how ridiculous his boyfriend was.

Soon enough the mattress dipped and he felt Marcel laugh against his lips, his body warm against Louis’, his hands pulling him closer. When Louis opened his eyes he saw Marcel had finally taken his glasses away, green eyes staring back at him directly, with nothing to partially hide them.

“You’re so clumsy, baby, how can someone be so clumsy?”

“Can’t help it, the girls can’t help it,” Marcel sang out of tune, sending both of them in another fit of laughter.

(Pro tip: it was all those endorphins. Perks of having good sex with someone you’re comfortable with.)

“You get this song stuck in my head I swear I’ll cut your dick off.”

“Then who’ll get _you_ off?”

“You will. There must have been a reason you were born with these ridiculous big hands after all.” Louis waggled his eyebrows, bringing Marcel’s fingers up so he could kiss and nip at his fingertips.

“Look who’s getting feisty now.”

“Oi, I douched for you, I’m allowed to expect as much of a compensation for it as my arse can take it.” Louis kicked Marcel when he laughed, using his leg to wrap him closer against him.

“And I’m very grateful for it, babe,” Marcel snickered, taking one of his hands from Louis’ hold to bring it down to his arse, middle fingertip grazing against Louis’ still wet hole. “I can even lick you clean if you want to.”

“You’re insatiable,” Louis smiled, kissing Marcel back again, well aware of how his fingers was still grazing against him, spreading what could only be lube and come against his crack.

“You’re just irresistible,” Marcel whispered back, his palm squeezing Louis’ arse cheek and prompting him up and closer to Marcel.

“God, your lines are still terrible, why did I ever agree to go out with you?”

Instead of laughing or kissing him again, Marcel pulled his head back, tilting it sideways in curiosity. “To be honest, I always asked myself that as well.”

“What?”

“Why you accepted to go out with me.”

“Are you serious?” Louis raised an eyebrow. “Six months we’ve been going out and you still wonder about that?”

Marcel shrugged sheepishly. “I did have a horrible, terrible, pathetic crush on you. Still do, you know.” He smiled, pulling his left hand that was still being held by Louis closer so he could kiss Louis’ hand. “Not my fault I could never believe you would say yes.” He scrunched his nose. “Specially when you did say no before.”

Louis opened his mouth incredulous. “When did I ever say no to you?”

“The first time we met.”

“When Liam introduced us?”

“No, before that. And also that time at the party.” Marcel grimaced.

“Which party? The Christmas party?”

Marcel nodded.

“Oh my God, you were hitting on me at that party?” Louis asked hesitantly, eyes opening wide when Marcel nodded again. “The one we spoke for hours about nonsense and then I ditched you to talk to my prick of an ex, just to find you again drunk as a skunk?”

“Not my brightest moment, but yes.”

“Jesus fuck, Marce.” Louis moaned, hiding his face with both his hands. The “why didn’t you tell me this before?” came out muffled.

“Hey, hey, what’s this?” Marcel raised himself a bit, leaning on his elbow to try and take Louis’ hands off his face. “Come on, Lou, what’s so bad about it? If anything I was the one being stupid back then.”

“The fuck you were, how could I have lost so much of my time with others when I could have had you all this time,” Louis moaned again, still hidden behind his hands.

Marcel stilled his attempts, suddenly vulnerable by Louis’ words. “You mean it?”

Louis peaked between his fingers to look at him. “Of course I do. I fucking love it being with you now, can’t you see it?”

Marcel shrugged again, small smile on his face. “You make me so happy sometimes I drive myself crazy wondering how I could ever do the same to you.”

“Trust me, Marce, being with you is enough.” Louis took his hands off his face and brought them down to raise Marcel’s hand from his hips, cuddling it against his chest gently. “Happiness is very much a two way street here. And I feel it, when I’m with you. Like, a lot.” He smiled down shyly, staring at their hands above his chest so Marcel couldn’t see the flush on his cheeks.

“Did you think we would ever get here back then?” Marcel’s voice was low, soft, trying to not carry the weight of his words over to Louis.

“I still don’t know what I thought back then if I’m honest.” Louis bit his lips quickly. “I don’t regret it, though. Never did. Until the moment you asked me out on that god forsaken coffee shop I hadn’t even thought about you as dating material yet here I am, happily sharing my first ever accomplishment with you by my side.”

“You got the role, baby.” Marcel grinned, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.

“That I did,” Louis looked up, using one of his hands to bring Marcel down to kiss him properly again. “The role AND the boyfriend.”

Kissing Marcel never got old, no matter how many times they did it. The buzz Louis had felt the first time, the easy chemistry was still there, simmering under his skin every time their lips touched, every time one of them sighed satisfied against the other’s lips, their heads turning with ease to better fit their movements, tongues seeking each other playfully. Louis had one hand lazily messing with Marcel’s hair, the other one caressing Marcel’s chest softly.

It was in moments like this that Louis’ knew he was right, that he had made the right decision. Being with Marcel was the easiest thing he had ever done, yet the most difficult one. He could barely contain how excited he got whenever he saw him nowadays, no matter how attached to the hip they’d been prior. Waking up in the morning to find him by his side was even worse, when every fiber of his being fluttered in warmth, in how right the day felt whenever he woke up beside him, as if he had found his righteous place in the world.

It came without saying how scared shitless Louis was because of it. Six months together wasn’t enough to judge someone as ‘the right one’ and yet here he was, certain in the knowledge that the voice in the back of his brain was saying the truth. Maybe it was too early to say anything to Marcel, though, so he just enjoyed his company, basking in every moment they spent together, in Marcel’s unwavering attention when it came to Louis. Maybe it was too early to say them, but Louis came to accept his feelings gladly, embracing how deeply he felt for him.

In between their kisses and his internal debate, Louis heard a phone vibrate incessantly on the floor behind them. When it didn’t stop, he kissed Marcel one last time to whisper against his mouth to go and get it.

“No, let it be for now. Gimme another kiss instead.”

Louis moved his head away. “No way, the buzzing is annoying me to no end. Go and get it.”

“But I’m comfortable here.” Marcel laid down on the bed, throwing his arm on top of his face to hid it from view.

“It’s your phone.”

“Could be yours.”

“My clothes are still in the corridor.”

When Marcel did nothing but smirk against his arm, Louis huffed and twisted his nipple in retaliation, earning a yelp from him.

“Kinda miss the old days when you’d do anything I asked you to.” Louis grumbled, slowly raising himself from the bed.

“But I still do anything you ask me, babe.”

“Then go get your phone.”

“Except that.”

“Useless, I’m telling you.” Louis feigned annoyance, rolling his eyes as he moved above Marcel, sitting on top of him with legs on both sides of his hips. “Gotta do everything myself.” Louis raised an eyebrow cockly, moving his arse back against Marcel’s groin in a tease.

“Fuck, Lou,” Marcel gripped Louis thighs with both hands, slowly raising them until he was holding his hips, helping him move harder above him. “Do it like that, babe, soon I’ll-”

Another buzz came from the floor, incessantly echoing around the room.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Louis complained, raising his right leg so he could lift himself from the position he was on top of Marcel.

Except. His foot caught against the untucked sheet and he fell tumbling down on the floor.

“Oh my God, Louis, are you alright?” Marcel asked worried, his face appearing on the edge of the bed as he looked down to Louis sprawled down on the floor.

A beat passed. Then two. Then the phone started buzzing again and both boys laughed out loud.

“God, now I get it why you hate it so much when I ask if you’re alright,” Louis laughed, not minding how cold the floor was underneath him.

Marcel hid his face on the corner of the mattress, his dimples impossibly deep by how hard he was laughing. Louis felt his laughter die down, his mirth opening way to warm honey spreading inside him. His breathing evened out, his heartbeat soothed by the happiness Marcel’s laugh brought in him.

“Hey, Marce.”

“Y-yeah?” He gasped in between cackles, face appearing once again to look down at Louis.

“Guess it means I’ve fallen for you.”

Louis smiled softly up at Marcel, watching him shake in laughter. There were many ways to tell him properly later, but he guessed this was a start anyways.

 

**.Zero**

 

The day they met, of course, wasn’t the same day Louis remembered. But he would only learn that later, when Marcel finally had the courage to tell him about it - among other things.

It had gone like this.

It was Marcel’s first day at university and he was late, to his dismay.

He had got lost on his way from the dorm, in his anxious mind to not arrive late (oh the irony) and to not forget anything for his classes, he had ended up at the wrong side of campus instead of where his Marketing classes were given in.

As a fresher, he wasn’t quite aware yet he wouldn’t need all the books he had already bought, nor would he need as many pens and notebooks for all his classes as he had bought in his need to be prepared for them.

He was excited, okay? Give him a break.

So he was walking across campus quickly, searching for his timetable and the map he had saved on his phone as he made his way through the little grass park in front of what he thought was the right building. Unaware of exactly where he was stepping, though, his foot caught on an upwards root and he came tumbling down on the floor, phone luckily secured in his hand and too heavy bag pushing him faster against the floor.

He fell with an ‘oof’. A second later somebody else also fell beside him.

“Damn, I honestly thought this floor was going to be softer than it is. We weren’t so lucky, I think.”

Marcel turned, pushing his bag away from him so he could lie on his back and stare at the stranger lying down on the floor beside him.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” The stranger replied, eyes squinting as he looked upwards calmly, hands poised softly on top of his chest.

“Well, I guess I tripped you when I fell, so I’m sorry.”

The stranger laughed. He had a cute smile.

“Not really, no. I just saw you falling down and decided to help you out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” He turned towards Marcel, eyes half closed still by how big he was smiling, “if we’re both laid down on the floor like this it looks like we’re just chilling instead of, you know, you making a spectacle of yourself.”

“Oh.” Marcel bit back a smile. “Thank you, then.”

“You’re welcome. You a fresher?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“The size of your bag and your worried look. Trust me, mate, by the next term you won’t even bring a bag to class anymore.” He laughed out loud, fingers tapping a rhythm against his chest.

“Somehow, I very much doubt that.” Marcel answered, eyes scanning his profile as he looked upwards again.

“Nah, you’ll see.” He scratched his nose. “But trust me, you’ll do fine enough. People like to make it seem like university life is bigger than it really is, in my opinion. The goal here is just to make friends and do you, I guess.”

“Doing me wasn’t a very welcomed aspect of my school life.” Marcel spoke before he could restrain himself, his eyes widening when he realized what he just said.

The stranger hummed. “Isn’t that right. Well, tell you what, mate, you stick with the right people here and you’ll find yourself welcomed soon enough. All sorts of people here, don’t worry about that either. You look like a nice enough chap, you’ll do fine.”

“Is everyone around here nice enough to just lay down on the floor and save someone from embarrassment then?” Marcel asked cheekily, biting his lips when he saw the stranger look back towards him.

“Nope, that’s just me.” He laughed. “I’m cool like that.”

“That you are.” Marcel laughed softly, eyes gazing curiously his face. This stranger had blue eyes and three freckles by his left cheek. “Thank you.” When he shrugged as if it was nothing Marcel kept going, “I mean it. It isn’t the best of luck to embarrass oneself in your very first day of classes, I guess.”

“I guess not.” He smiled.

“Maybe you could help me keep this streak of luck. How about a coffee? Do you know any good coffee shop around here?” Marcel used his fingers to fix his glasses up on his face, just to realize he wasn’t wearing them. He frowned worriedly, getting up ungracefully, trying to see with his bad eyesight where exactly did his glasses fall.

“Yeah, there’s a good one around the corner, mate.” The stranger spoke beside him, also getting up from the floor, shaking the grass from his clothes gracefully before he stood up. “You won’t miss it, it’s right across from the business building.”

“Oh,” Marcel slumped dejectedly, realizing his invitation was just dismissed by him.

“Oh, are those yours?” He asked, squatting down to grab Marcel’s glasses from the floor.

“Yes. I mean, yes, they’re mine. Thank you.” Marcel took them from his hands, admiring the blurred lines of what he could see was a tattoo on the kind stranger’s wrist.

“No problem, mate.” He smiled down at Marcel. “But if I were you I’d get up quickly, classes are about to start. Try that coffee later, okay? I swear you won’t regret it, they have some cupcakes as well that are to die for.”

“I will,” Marcel smiled softly, eyes squinted so he could see him standing up in front of Marcel. The sun was soft behind him, making his smile warmer around the edges. Marcel licked his lips, unable to stop himself from wanting, just a little bit.

“And,” he continued, head tilted sideways, a kind expression on his face. “Don’t worry too much, okay? You’ll do fine. I’m sure someone with eyes as pretty as yours will do well enough around here. Soon enough you’ll charm everyone around your little finger, you’ll see.” He winked sweetly, making Marcel blush.

“I will,” Marcel opened his eyes anxiously, “I mean! I hope I will.” He corrected himself hurriedly, ashamed but secretly pleased by how loudly the stranger laughed.

“I’m sure you will, mate. Now off you go, classes to attend, people to charm, the world to conquer. Come on.” He extended his hand to help Marcel up. Marcel quickly put his glasses in the same hand as he was still holding his phone, using his other one to help himself up as he did so.

He was shorter than Marcel and somewhat even prettier now that he could see him properly, standing up, both face to face.

“Are you alright, though? Or did it hurt when you fell?” He smiled sheepishly. “Gross, that sounded like a lame line.” He chuckled.

“No, I’m good. Very okay. Perfect, even.”

“Good, I can see that.” He smiled.

“Louis!”

The stranger looked back and when he spotted someone behind him he waved. “Sorry, gotta go.” He looked back at Marcel. “You’re alright, yeah?” When Marcel nodded he continued. “Great. Well, that was my call. You have fun, okay? See you around. And watch that step! Don’t go falling around where I can’t save your arse from it.” He called back, waving as he kept walking away towards whoever called him.

When he was too blurred to recognize Marcel remembered to put his glasses back. The stranger came back to focus, talking to a guy animatedly before they walked away. He saw him look back once more towards Marcel, and when Marcel waved he smiled and waved back one last time before turning his back on him to continue his way.

Louis, it seemed to be his name. Marcel wished he could see him again.

Too bad when he did Louis had already forgotten everything about their meet cute. But that was okay. Marcel could wait. Louis looked like the type to be worth it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So there's that I guess. Never let the Marcel trope die, people. 
> 
> Also, if y'all wanna follow here's [perfectdagger](HTTP://perfectdagger.tumblr.com/), my actual 1D blog, and my [plotbunnies blog](HTTP://temporarylarryfix.tumblr.com/). And.... Y'all should check our [HPAU work](HTTP://archiveofourown.org/series/591754), js.


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